


Weather Every Storm

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barbecue, Big Bang Challenge, Break Up, Canon Bisexual Character, Communication, Community: smallfandombang, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Drama, First Time, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, London, Loss of Faith, M/M, Makeup, Masturbation, Past Relationship(s), Questions of Faith, Rebuilding a life, Romance, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Slash, Small Fandom Big Bang, Suicide Attempt, Tarot, Tarot - The Tower, Tattoos, Team as Family, accompanying artwork, background Vanessa/Guiliano, friends are therapists you can drink with, leario - Freeform, leo learns not to be so pushy, overcoming homophobia/internalized homophobia, past Leonardo/Lucrezia, past Leonardo/Vanessa, rebuilding a relationship, riario learns to trust, seriously they're all screwed without her, sofa sex, vanessa & riario, vanessa is the best, vanessa ships leario, you know when riario says artista he means darling artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:23:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, present day. Leo and Riario were in a tempestuous but passionate relationship until they recently broke up. Leo, believing they'll get back together, is stunned when he gets a call saying Riario has attempted suicide. Desperate to win back the love of his life, Leo will go to any length to bring Riario home and repair their relationship.</p><p>Riario, always more emotionally distant, but still in love with Leo, lets himself be won over gradually. Bonding with Leo's friends and buying out Leo's share of the pub which Vanessa owns, Riario builds a new life at Leo's side, even trying to make amends with Lucrezia, the cousin who has long hated him. Zo isn't so sure about things, but if everyone can put their past behind them, the future could be bright.</p><p>And then Leo is made an offer he finds it almost impossible to refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Their relationship had always been tumultuous. Leo, though, had always believed in them, passionately. Riario had never shared his deep conviction, but he'd let himself fall in love – or so Leo believed – and one day he moved in, and Leo thought that settled the matter.

Leo's friends had always had their doubts. Zo said it wouldn't last, and Leo knew he hoped it wouldn't, but he never pressed the matter, because Zo was really looking out for Leo and trying to make sure he didn't get hurt. Nico and Vanessa were more accepting, though still wary of Riario. He wasn't one of them, didn't share their bond, their background.

It didn't matter. Leo was confident that, in time, Riario would be part of the group as he was so very much part of Leo.

They'd already overcome so many obstacles. While Leo had always known he was bisexual, long before he knew the words to describe his feelings, Riario was a different story. It had been difficult for him to put aside years of an upbringing that said being gay was a sin, a crime against nature. He clung to the notion that he was still attracted to women, that Leonardo was an exception; Leo, his beloved artist, the only person he had ever truly cared about.

They fought often, but there was always passion beneath the fury. Harsh kisses led to make-up sex and soft apologies; the consequences were always pleasurable.

Until the day they had a fight that got out of control. Not passionate or fiery but cold and sharp like a knife.

Riario left. Packed a bag, walked out and didn't come back. Not that night. Nor the next.

After Leo made a hundred phone calls and left innumerable text messages, Riario finally called him back. "It's over."

"No. Let me explain," Leo said, though he couldn't quite remember how the fight had started, didn't know why it had been the last straw for Riario, or what he could possibly explain that would make things better. "Let me make it up to you. Let's talk about this."

"Our relationship is over," Riario said, as callous as if he were telling a persistent telesales operator he did not want to buy double glazing. "I cannot make it any clearer."

Leo blinked back tears. "I love you."

Riario was silent for a long moment. "Take care, Leonardo." He hung up. Leo thought he'd sounded upset, but couldn't swear he hadn't imagined it. He wanted Riario to be upset. He wanted him to hurt the way he was hurting. He tossed the phone aside, hearing it land somewhere across the room.

Leo sank to the floor and hugged his knees, sorrow overtaking his anger. No, he didn't want Riario to hurt. He still loved him. He didn't want him to suffer. He wanted him back.

*

Twenty days without contact, Zo said. He'd read it in a Sunday newspaper supplement, something about _How To (Mostly) Painlessly Break Up With A Lover_. No phone calls, no Facebook, nothing. Twenty days to break the cycle, to begin to let go of the relationship.

Leo didn't want to let go. He didn't believe it was possible. He didn't phone or text though, and he didn't post to Facebook, though he kept an eye on it.

It was hell.

He slept little. Flung himself into a new painting, something non-commissioned and that would likely never sell, a piece that was all dark lines and rough splashes of colour, something primal and angry and quite unlike his usual work.

The twenty days crawled by and Leo still felt Riario's absence like a missing tooth, an aching gap surrounded by raw flesh that he kept unintentionally poking at it.

It was day twenty-one when Leo saw Riario's employment status had changed to "unemployed". Leo promptly left a message – sorry, I know how important your job was, please call me, I'm still here for you - and additionally sent a text to his phone.

When those went unanswered, he sent another text. Then left a voicemail.

"What happened? Talk to me! Please."

There was no answer to that. nor other ten messages he sent.

"You broke up. Give him his space," Zo said.

Leo didn't think he could survive another day, let alone a further twenty, without contacting Riario. Nonetheless, he tried. He didn't send any more messages. He threw a cloth over the painting and went out to a business meeting about a new commission. His life would go on without Riario in it, or so he told himself.

When the phone rang at 2am, two days later, Leo, who hadn't gone to bed yet, answered immediately. He expected it to be a drunken Zo needed to be fetched from a pub or a police station. Not a hospital administrator calling Riario's emergency contact.

*

"Leo!" Vanessa was wearing a long coat over what looked like pyjamas. She embraced him and Leo let her hold him. Her hair smelt like lavender, a welcome counterpoint to the antiseptic and the scent of death he imagined lingering in the hospital hallways.

Nico had driven her, and, while he was fully dressed, his hair was mussed up. A few minutes later Zo arrived, looking like he hadn't been to bed – quite likely the case.

"What happened?" Zo demanded. Vanessa released Leo and he began to pace, rubbing at the back of his head with one hand.

"Someone from his work went round to collect a file or some keys, I don't know. The door was open, I think. They found him unconscious. He cut his wrists, well one of them certainly, and it's bad, he's lost a lot of blood." Leo's fingers danced in the air, as if playing an invisible instrument. "I wanted to give blood but they said there was no need, but I really wanted to…"

Nico caught at his sleeve and Leo stopped. He swallowed. "I can't lose him."

Vanessa bit at her lip. "Leo."

"He's not your problem or your responsibility any more," Zo reminded him. "You two broke up."

Nico gave him an exasperated look, which Zo ignored. Leo blinked away tears. "Maybe it's my fault."

No, no, his friends said, rushing to reassure him, Nico's hand on his shoulder, Vanessa trying to hug him again, Zo muttering about how this was all Riario's fault, selfish bastard.

Vanessa glared over her shoulder. "Go and get us coffee," she ordered. Zo went, chastened.

"It's not supposed to end this way," Leo said. "I thought he just needed some space. When I found out he lost his job I tried to contact him. I never thought for one minute he'd try something like this. He's so strong-willed."

Too strong-willed? Inflexible, unable to adapt. Broken.

He looked at the clock, the second hand slicing time into precious fragments. "They said it could take be a while. Before we know." He didn't have to clarify further.

Vanessa kissed his cheek. Nico squeezed his shoulder again. "We'll wait with you," Nico promised.

It was the longest night of Leo's life. By the time someone came to reassure Leo that Riario was out of danger, he was exhausted, eyes bloodshot and burning. He mumbled something, maybe a thank you. He wanted to see Riario and tried to make this desire known, but maybe he looked too wild and unkempt to be allowed, because it didn't happen. Instead, somehow he must have let Nico take him home, because without Leo remembering the journey, they were home – though it hadn't felt like home since Riario moved out.

"You can see him tomorrow," Nico soothed, leading Leo to the bedroom. "He's still unconscious. He wouldn't know you were there anyway."

Leo wanted to argue, to cite papers that said the unconscious and even comatose were often aware of their surroundings. He wanted to say it was already tomorrow, and what difference would a few hours make anyway. But he was too tired and his brain had become disconnected from his tongue.

"He'll be all right," Nico said.

Leo wasn't fully reassured, nor was it enough for Riario to be merely alive. He needed Riario back in his life, back in this bed. He gave a sob, and Nico sat next to him, holding his hand, letting Leo lean on his shoulder until exhaustion finally claimed him and he slept.

*

The nurse was polite but firm, blocking Leo's path. He frowned, finding it hard to accept what she was saying.

"I'm his boyfriend." Riario always hated the term but Leo wasn't about to beat around the bush for a suitable term of endearment. "I'm his emergency contact," he reminded her. "You called me." And now Riario was awake Leo wanted, needed, to see him.

"Yes, I know," she repeated, with infinite patience. "But this isn't my decision. He doesn't want to see you."

The floor ought to open up and swallow him, Leo thought, suddenly distracted by the lines of the tiles, the colour coded route marks painted along the edges, the way the fluorescents lit up the corridor. Not to be eaten up out of shame but because it was something that would happen in a nightmare, and if this was a dream then he'd wake up, because after everything he'd already been through this dismissal was the worst of all.

"I love him." It was a stupid thing to say but nothing else came to mind.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry."

"Can you…can you tell him I was here. And that I want to see him? And, and tell him that I love him. Can you tell him?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "If he changes his mind, I'll call you."

Leo walked out on autopilot and down three streets until he realised he didn't really know where he was, and that he'd left his car back at the hospital.

*

He left voicemails. Some he deleted, some he let go through. Lots of "I'm sorry" and "Please" and "For fuck's sake!" Some "Just send me a text, even" and "I need to see you". One "I love you, I still love you, damn you!" that ended up with him hanging up in tears.

He could barely sleep. He tried to work, but he was unable to stop thinking about Riario and, after he snapped a paintbrush, he gave up, wiped off his hands, and tried to find something to eat. He'd missed at least two meals he was aware of, and even though he still wasn't really hungry, he knew he had to eat something. As he hadn't been shopping for a while, he was reduced to forcing down a yoghurt that was one of the few things left in the fridge.

In the finish, Leo went back to the hospital, determined to see Riario come hell or high water.

"You didn't hear?" the nurse asked, interrupting Leo's brilliant argument of why he ought to be allowed to see Riario whether the stubborn bastard wanted him there or not (plan b involved setting off a door alarm, or possibly the sprinklers, and sneaking in during the confusion).

"Hear what?" Leo said, time slowing down to a crawl as terrible, horrible, visions danced through his head. Delayed reaction to the blood loss, some sort of complication from the transfusion, another, more successful suicide attempt…Leo lived a dozen terrible scenarios that all ended up with him at Riario's funeral, usually having to stand outside on the pavement because the security guards hired by Riario's father wouldn't let him into the church.

Seeing his panic, she put a gentle hand on his arm, reassuring. "He left." The next question, and one she wouldn't answer, was where Riario would have gone. Leo, however had an idea how to find out.

Back at home, Leo paced the floors. Someone had to know where Riario had gone when he'd moved out. He made a phone call to Riario's previous place of employment, pretending to be a hospital employee asking to confirm a current address for their records and follow up appointments. It paid off. Riario had still been employed by them when he'd walked out, and had updated his details. Things were finally looking up.

*

Leo hadn't planned on what to say, too distracted to think as he followed, ignored, and swore at the GPS by turns. He was stunned to see the ancient terrace house, converted into two flats, the sort of old tenement that got pulled down to make way for "gentrification", replaced with loft apartments out of reach of most people's budgets. Loft apartment was what he'd expected, really. Riario had grown up privileged – abused mentally and physically by his father, but with money and education to spare – and never had he lived in squalor.

Leo parked up and took a deep breath before he got out and locked the car door. With trepidation he made his way to the front door, swallowed his nerves, and leaned on the doorbell.

What if Riario wasn't here? Maybe he'd gone somewhere else. Leo began imagining again. Riario might be shopping, or gone back to his father (surely not!), or to church. He might also be inside ignoring Leo, or, worse, dead or dying, or –

The door opened. Riario's brows drew together as he studied Leo, and he leaned on the door as if he might slam it. Leo surreptitiously slid one foot against the door jamb to prevent such a move.

Leo didn't forget faces, could never forget Riario's in any case. Yet seeing him again in the flesh, after fearing he might never lay eyes on his beloved again, sent a thrill through him as if he were seeing him for the first time. His blood hummed in his ears. Riario didn't look too bad all things considered. Pale, but then wasn't he always? A little skinnier than a few weeks ago when they'd split up, but he'd always been lean. Smudges of dark shadows were visible beneath his eyes, but hell, Leo looked worse than this after a couple of nights working on his artwork in lieu of sleep.

Riario didn't say a word. He lifted one hand to brush at his chin. His beard was a little fuller, more untidy. Leo didn't care. He wanted to touch it himself. He stuck his hands in his pockets to make himself behave.

Right. Say something. Anything.

"You left the hospital," Leo said accusingly and cursed himself inwardly. Shit, anything but that!

To his relief, Riario didn't slam the door. He lifted his chin somewhat in defiance. "Psychiatric hold is only 72 hours."

"You were unconscious for most of those!"

"Don't exaggerate."

Leo made a noise of frustration. "I just can't believe they let you go!" Some part of him whispered that what he meant was that he could not believe he, Leo, had let Riario go, at least without more a fight.

Riario shrugged. "I know what answers to give to satisfy nosy psychiatrists. I always know what to say," he said, eyes boring into Leo's, "except when it comes to you."

Unable to hold his gaze, Leo studied the doorstep instead – noticed a crack in the grey concrete, a tall weed growing up alongside the doorframe – and then back at Riario. "That's not what I meant. You almost died." If his voice sounded whiny and pathetic at least it wasn't another accusation.

"That was, at the time, the intention."

Leo stared at him and Riario sighed. "I'm all right. Besides, I couldn't stand another moment there. Much as I cannot bear another moment standing here talking to you." Riario turned, but he left the door open and, taking it as an invitation, Leo followed him inside. A shabby door closed off the stairs leading to an upstairs flat, while Riario had turned left into the lounge of his ground floor flat..

The room was small and sparsely, dreadfully, furnished. It made Leo's skin crawl and his eyes burn. A fake chimney breast with a tawdry electric heater jammed into the orifice caught his eye. He glanced down at the threadbare carpet on the creaky floor and his gaze was drawn to a place on the carpet that was conspicuously cleaner than the rest. He couldn't help but think this was where the blood had been – _Riario's lifeblood slipping away_ – and that attempts to remove the evidence had only left another kind of reminder behind. He chewed at his lip, angry he hadn't thought to come here and clean up. (If there'd been plants or pets he'd have come here, of course he would, but Riario had neither; he didn't like attachments; that was Leo's job, and he'd failed at it, hadn't he, failed to love Riario enough to keep him at his side.)

The thought of Riario having spent his first hours back home – not that this place was home, and would never be if Leo had anything to say about it – on his knees, cleaning up his own blood, was a guilt inducing one.

Leo blinked, tried to focus on the rest of the dingy flat. A two seater sofa that had seen better days, and a glass coffee table, heavily scratched. There was a tiny kitchen and two doors that Leo guessed led to an equally drab bathroom and bedroom. Why hadn't Riario rented something better? He could have afforded it, before he lost his job.

Seeing his distress, Riario gave a sharp laugh. "I was in a hurry and I rented it furnished. Technically I cannot sue for false advertising."

"It's awful," Leo said with feeling. There was a faint smell of damp, the curtains would have looked outdated in the 60's, and the walls were painted some awful shade of beige. He briefly entertained the thought that if Riario hadn't been suicidal after losing his job, coming back to this hovel would certainly have pushed him over the edge.

Leo thought of their home, the renovated semi-detached that he'd put a huge deposit on after receiving a particularly good commission. It was full of his clutter, yes, but full of warmth too. Bright walls, french windows leading to a surprisingly well kept garden, plenty of paintings, the comfortable sofa, an entertainment centre, a dining table for when he invited all his friends over – even if they did mostly end up sitting on the chairs and floor of the lounge, the modern kitchen, the bathroom –

He lost a moment reminiscing about the large shower cubicle and all the times he and Riario had allegedly saved water by showering together, soaping each others' chest, one hand slipping down, lower, lower –

"You can't stay here," Leo said, blinking hard as he fought to stay present in the moment.

"I believe I can." Riario's eyes narrowed. "If you are going to attempt to incarcerate me –"

"No!" Not at all what had been on Leo's mind. "I just mean you can't possibly live here. I bet there are cockroaches who'd turn their nose up at this place! I insist you come home. I mean, come back with me to our – to the house." He gave a cry of frustration. "God, why didn't you at least get some of your furniture?" Leo stared at the curtains again, certain they were a crime against humanity.

"Our furniture?" Riario shrugged. He'd brought a few things with him when he'd moved in and they'd purchased other items together, fitting them in around Leo's haphazard interior décor. "I suppose I was trying to make a clean break."

Too damn proud, Leo thought, knowing if he'd been the one to walk out he'd almost certainly have done the same. That Riario hadn't even picked up the rest of his clothes though had fuelled Leo's belief that he hadn't moved out for good.

He stepped close to Riario. "Please. I will promise you whatever you want, but I won't leave you here alone, and I can't stay here. It's depressing as hell!"

Riario studied him for a long moment. He went to the furthest door and disappeared into the bedroom. Leo didn't follow but he caught a glimpse of the same beige walls and a really obnoxious bedspread, and gave a shudder. Riario reappeared with a leather holdall bearing his initials.

"One word of criticism and I'm coming back here," he warned.

Leo nodded, anxious to get into the fresh air.

*

Riario ordered pizza. In the past, Leo had often teased him about eating it, a dish in keeping with his heritage but not with his cultured image. Today there was no teasing, and furthermore Leo kept silent about the choice of toppings, discarding the pepperoni to one side without comment. They'd never really argued about food because he'd always refuted the claim that he was a picky vegetarian. He didn't care if there was meat in the house and he never even demanded vegetarian cheese. His philosophy was that he personally didn't eat anything with a face, but he wasn't one of those fundamentalist vegans who thought milk was cow abuse and that keeping a pet was animal slavery. And he loved his battered vintage leather jacket too much to part with it, and he could live with the accusation of hypocrisy.

Eating the pepperoni would be going too far, but he had no intention of making a fuss. If Riario was testing him, he intended to pass. One night without criticism, one night without fighting. He could do this.

When Riario fetched two beers from the fridge, Leo held his tongue. The transfusions should have made up for the blood loss, it would do no harm now, surely. Riario preferred wine, but in his absence, Leo hadn't fetched any from the cellar. Despite his faith that Riario would return, in many small ways he'd subconsciously tried to cut Riario out of his life too; Leo had refused to use the towels that Riario had brought when he'd moved in, had stuffed to the back of a drawer the shirt he'd had been wearing to the event that had culminated in their first sexual experience.

Riario leaned back on the comfy sofa, staring at the ceiling, where Leo had been painting a stylised representation of the zodiac. It hadn't been worked on for months, abandoned for other, more pressing, projects. Pisces was still only outlined, fins barely visible, while Gemini's twins were blank faced, their facial features yet to be added.

"Are you ever going to finish this?"

"When I get round to it." Cautiously, not wanting to spook him, Leo sat down on the floor next to Riario, needing to be close, wanting to touch him. He settled for pressing his shoulder against Riario's knee. With easy familiarity, Riario dropped his free hand onto Leo's shoulder. Leo bit his lip, overcome with conflicting emotions.

"I missed you," Riario said, so softly that Leo had to wonder if he'd heard him at all, and it wasn't just wishful imagining on his part. But Riario went on, with a harsh laugh, "I didn't want to. I tried to forget you, but you are unforgettable. Yet I couldn't just come back to you, the way you wish I had. I am not a man who easily forgives."

"I know."

A sigh. "I'm not sure any longer what it was I needed to forgive."

Leo licked at his lips. "We both just – we're too different, and too much the same, and we didn’t try hard enough to make ourselves fit together. You're inflexible, yes, -" Was that a criticism? It was, but he'd move on quickly, and maybe Riario would ignore the misstep. "But I'm arrogant and I treat people like toys."

"Toys?"

Vanessa had said that once, sick with the flu, feverish to the point of delirium and pissed off because Leo had promised to watch the pub for her until she felt better, only he'd got distracted, forgetting to open at all. "You treat people like toys, like we exist for your pleasure, for you to experiment with, or to sketch, and we're not! We're people and we have feelings and lives!"

She'd apologised later but Leo had taken her words to heart, nursing a small wound that would never heal. It ought to have been enough to keep him from making the same mistake with Riario. It had not been.

"I'm sorry," Leo said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know we fought about so many things and I know a lot of them were my fault and that I didn't listen when you tried to talk to me. I get distracted."

Riario laughed but it was softer, more genuine this time. "That's an understatement. You don't live in our world. You live in one of your own imagining. That's part of why I fell in love with you, that vision, that creativity. But it's hard to compete with, my darling artist."

Leo twisted his head to look up into Riario's eyes. "I don't want you to have to compete."

Riario gave a barely visible shrug. "What do you suggest?"

Leo clambered up next to him, sending the remote flying from beneath the sofa cushion – he'd been looking for that all day yesterday – and, kneeling alongside Riario, took one of his hands in both of his. Riario's skin was cool, if not cold, and Leo wanted to warm him both physically and emotionally. If only he could pour his feelings directly into Riario's flesh so that Riario could know the depth of love that Leo had for him.

Words would have to suffice.

"You promise to tell me when things are going wrong, when you need my full attention, and I promise I'll listen."

Riario took a swig of beer. "How long do you imagine that would last? Until you get knee deep in one of your projects, I expect. Or until there's something you can't fix by fucking me. Or until there's something I don't know how to talk about with you."

"We can try." Leo sat back on his heels, releasing his grip on Riario's hand. "I want to try."

Riario placed his empty bottle onto the arm of the sofa with the delicate grace that Leo had always admired in him. "My darling artist. In your greatest passion I've seen you throw wonderful artwork into the fire that people would have paid good money for. Our relationship is more flawed than those supposedly imperfect things you've so destroyed without a moment's hesitation."

Leo shook his head. "I start again. I never destroy without a plan to rebuild better than before." He gave a strangled sob. "You're the one who says I'm a hoarder. You should be glad I sometimes throw things away."

Riario lifted his hand to rub one knuckle across Leo's cheekbone. "Leonardo?"

Leo blinked away hot tears. "I'm still angry. I'm not the one who gave up or moved out. I still love you. I wanted you to come back and you didn't." He swallowed hard. "You almost died and I didn't know how I would live without you. I could never stop loving you the way you did me."

Riario closed his eyes briefly. "You're wrong. I haven't stopped loving you," he said, barely above a whisper. For now that would suffice, something to rebuild from.

"I know you don't want to talk about it," Leo said, using one knuckle to wipe any moisture from beneath his left eye. "Just tell me you're not going to do it again." He couldn't bring himself to say the word suicide and he didn't have to.

"I'm not. It was an impulsive act carried out in a temporary moment of despair."

It sounded like something he'd rehearsed for the psychiatrist but maybe it was true. Leo chose to believe him. The alternative was unthinkable. Besides, now Riario was home things would be better. He would have less to despair about. Leo would see to that.

*

Riario wanted to shower before bed and Leo didn't blame him for not having done so at the rented accommodation. There'd probably been a dozen kinds of mould lurking in the bathroom. To show willing, Leo tidied up the bedroom as much as he could, and even changed the bed sheets.

Only afterwards, stripping off his shirt and admiring his efforts, did it occur to him that Riario might prefer the guest bedroom. Which would mean a lot more cleaning up because a spare room or a clear surface was, to Leo's mind, just begging to be filled up with things, just as a sheet of paper ought to be filled with ideas.

He turned to find Riario in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist. He'd trimmed his beard back, which Leo approved of. The tousled dark hair dripped water slightly onto toned skin. The sight took Leo's breath away.

"Do you – I didn't know if you'd want to sleep with me, I mean in our bed, I mean this bed. I mean I can tidy the spare room. Oh, God." This last had nothing to do with sleeping arrangements and everything to do with catching sight of the stitches marring Riario's flesh.

Riario waited patiently until Leo seemed to have run out of words. "Help me bandage this," he said and Leo did as he was told. He might be the cause of many a crisis, as his friends often told him, but he had also got rather good at dealing with them, from putting out small fires to administering first aid.

Riario sat on the edge of the bed while Leo worked with equal parts care and efficiency. He went to return the first aid kit to the bathroom because despite what people thought of his organisational skills, Leo knew that certain things needed to be kept in places they could be found in case of emergency. When he returned, Riario had pulled on a T-shirt and shorts and climbed into bed. Which, good, Leo thought, swallowing unexpected nervousness.

He'd often thought that if Riario hadn't left that night, if they'd just come to bed and they'd fucked –just held each other, even – if he'd let Leo show him how much he loved him, then things would have gone differently.

Since then, he'd had fantasies of Riario showing up one night, sober and angry, or tipsy and affectionate, and they'd argue and the argument would turn to flirting and they'd end up in bed and in the morning it would all be fine again, as if Riario had never left.

This wasn't like his daydreams.

Leo undressed and climbed into bed. He turned off the lamp, plunging them into near darkness. His eyes began to adjust and he could make out Riario in the gloom, could hear and smell and sense him. Not a dream this time.

"Can I hold you?" Leo prayed fervently that the answer was yes, because if not he didn't know what he'd do. End up on the sofa downstairs, probably, because his arms ached almost as much as his heart did with the need to pull Riario close, and it would take more self-control than Leo possessed not to transgress if it were forbidden. He need not have worried.

"Of course." Riario's tone was gentle, and, Leo thought, tinged with a touch of amusement. Riario turned onto his side – away from him, so Leo could spoon. For a few minutes it was peaceful, perfect. Every fantasy paled into insignificance compared to the reality of Riario back in his life.

It didn't last long, for soon Leo wished that Riario had turned to face him, for he wanted Riario's mouth on his skin. He reined in his impatience as best he could. Be grateful that Riario was here at all, he told himself –alive, in this house, in this bed, in his arms.

"We can't pretend none of this happened," Riario said sleepily, as if he'd read Leo's thoughts.

"I know." But why not, he wanted to ask, countering, enough, Leo, just be thankful, ssh, _sleep_. It took a long time for him to relax fully, afraid he'd awake to an empty bed, an empty house, once more. 

At last though he gave in and his dreams were joyful as they had not been in weeks, of flying as if he were a bird, soaring into the blue skies while Riario watched on indulgently, not yet ready to take Leo's hand and let himself be pulled up into the cloudless sky.

*

It took a moment for Leo to realise that Riario was next to him. This wasn't a dream. He pressed a kiss to Riario's neck. Riario mumbled something unintelligible. Leo stayed silent for a while, not wanting to fully wake his beloved without cause.

Riario yawned and said, sleepily, "Leo?"

Leo caressed Riario's neck and offered what he thought of as a celebratory breakfast. "Do you want pancakes?"

Riario squinted at him, disorientated. "What time is it?"

"Who cares? You don't have work and I work from home." Leo added, scrupulously honest for once, "Except I have a class later."

Riario pulled away and sat up, smoothing down his ruffled hair. Leo wanted to do it for him, but they were supposed to be taking things slow and Riario already looked vaguely uneasy. Leo ran his fingers through his own hair instead; it was getting long and if he wasn't going to get a trim he'd need to buy hair accessories to keep it tidy.

"Teaching or studying?" Riario asked.

"Teaching." Leo sat up, angling his body towards Riario, eager to drink in the familiar features once more. "Watercolours for beginners."

Riario stifled a laugh. "You'll be bored."

"No! I want to get people enthusiastic about art!" Leo put one hand one Riario's knee. "I can't be bored when there's so much to be excited about." He changed the subject. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." That seemed to be a surprise to Riario. "I can't believe I'm back here." He looked at the bandage on his arm and Leo swallowed a stab of pain.

He squeezed Riario's knee. "You don't regret staying here?"

"No. But Leonardo, I meant it. We can't pretend the break up didn't happen. That – this – didn't happen." He ran his fingers over the white linen.

Leo nodded. "I've been thinking about that."

"While you were asleep?"

Cynical bastard. It made Leo smile to have the Riario he knew back. "I do some of my best thinking then."

"That explains a lot."

Leo took the risk, cupping Riario's chin and pressing a kiss to one cheek. "I missed you."

"Leonardo." Riario fixed him with a stern gaze. "What were you thinking about?"

He released Riario and sat back on his heels. "Maybe you should go to therapy."

Riario was out of bed like he'd just found a tarantula in there. Leo bounded across the bed, almost falling onto the floor. "Wait!"

"No," Riario said, and it was no to the therapy and probably no to the request too. He picked up his shirt and Leo stabbed one finger in the direction of the wardrobe.

"Get a clean one!"

Riario tossed the shirt aside and stormed over the wardrobe, rifling through neatly folded t-shirts until he found one he wanted. Leo watched him browse through the hanging garments to choose a shirt, while putting himself between Riario and the bedroom door.

"You think talking to some professional with an agenda will solve anything?" Riario hissed, fumbling with his buttons. "You think I didn't have enough of that already, pasting on a smile so the asshole with the clipboard didn't lock me away for the foreseeable future? You want me drugged and insensible? Compliant – you'd like that!"

"No!" But Leo knew Riario was not really listening, probably didn't even mean half of what he was saying. It was rare he lost his temper like this, and it was usually better to let him rant and stay out of his way until he calmed down. That wasn't an option right now.

"I don't want a stranger prying into my personal life. Into our lives!" Riario had missed a button in his anger and he let out a cry of frustration. It took every ounce of his limited self control for Leo to stay put and not move to help him, to undo the buttons with a gentle hand and rebutton them in the right order.

Riario leaned back against the wardrobe, temporarily defeated. His tone was bitter when he found his voice again. "Last night felt like normality. Like a life worth living. That was what I needed. Not more sessions with some patronising social worker. Do you think you get beer and pizza and conjugal visits in the mental ward, Leonardo? Because you don't. And I swear to God, I would truly rather be dead than incarcerated, and if you put me away, then I will have nothing left to do but find a more effective way of killing myself."

Leo swallowed. Riario only swore "To God" when he meant something. He blinked away unbidden tears. Riario had fallen silent. It was Leo's turn to talk. He needed to reassure Riario but he wasn't sure he had the right words.

"That's not what I want. Any of that." He tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "I didn't mean some psychiatrist asshole with a clipboard. I just thought if you had someone to talk to it might help. And I want that person to be me, but I think I'm part of the problem. So at least for now…" He spread his hands.

Riario regarded him suspiciously, calmer now. "When did you start being reasonable?" he asked. "Usually we fight until we fuck and you hope I have forgotten what we were fighting about." Not that he did, but he'd pretend to, and that had been enough, for a time.

Leo took a step forward. "I'm trying to do better. But if you don't want…Vanessa."

Riario straightened up, unbuttoning his shirt. "I don't want Vanessa?" he asked, puzzled.

"No. I was thinking. She is a bartender. It's practically in her job description." Leo grinned, excited by his fantastic idea. "You should go see her. Talk to her."

Riario sighed. "Will it make you happy?" _And stop bothering me further_ was clearly implied.

"Very much."

Riario beckoned him forwards and kissed him on one cheek. "Then I shall." Then, as Leo's hand roamed beneath the open shirt, "Stop. Go and take a shower."

Leo, once again, did as he was told. Obedience was difficult but he was trying his best.


	2. Chapter 2

"We're not open," Vanessa said before looking up. "And how did you get in…oh. Sorry. You, er, you're er…how are you?"

He shrugged. "Surviving. I used Leo's key." Riario closed the door of the pub behind him. "Is that all right?"

"Of course. Come in." She lifted a shot glass to the light and examined it critically. "Just don't give me any crap about how early it is to be drinking. I'll be opening in just under an hour and in the meantime I need to taste these craft beers and choose three for next month's menu."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Riario took a seat at the bar. Several bottles of beer, an array of shot glasses, and a notebook filled with Vanessa's very legible handwriting (and some interesting doodles) were lined up on the wide polished surface.

"Here," she said, pushing the shot glass at him and pouring a second for herself. "What do you think?"

They tasted the beer. Vanessa swilled it around her mouth thoughtfully, staring at the ceiling. She swallowed. "I know I ought to spit," she said, catching Riario's eyes, "but it's only a little beer. I'm not going to get drunk. Certainly not on this anyway. Bland. Boring. Craft beer my arse."

Riario suppressed a laugh. "I've tasted better," he agreed.

"That's a no, then." She crossed it off the list and opened the next bottle. "What are you doing here, anyway? I'm sure you didn't come to help me taste beer, though you're more than welcome. Did Leo leave his wallet here again? Wait, have you seen Leo?"

He nodded. "Yes, I have seen him. Which was rather nice until he expressed a desire for me to go to therapy."

"Oh?"

Riario shrugged. "My father thought psychiatry and anything resembling it had two uses: for medicating or incarcerating the weak, and, in business terms, for uncovering the fragile and the traitorous. I learned early not only to never show weakness, but to hide anything resembling it."

Leo had never quite grasped why Riario found it difficult to openly express affection, but Vanessa's sympathetic expression suggested she understood a lot from this one admission.

"Not surprising that you don't trust mental health workers," Vanessa said.

"I gave the hospital psychiatrist the name of one such a person," Riario said. It had been the only way to avoid further interference in his life in the form of an assigned social worker, and the overworked and underfunded NHS was always glad when someone made their own, privately paid for, arrangements. That he had no intention of speaking to the man in question further had been made clear when he made the call; the doctor owed Riario a favour and this would be his payment. And, given the nature of the favour, the doctor knew better than to cross him. A suitably positive report would go on file, and Riario would be considered sane and competent.

He summarised for Vanessa, "I trust him to keep me out of a mental institute, but I would never trust him enough to speak openly."

"Because he reports to your father?"

"Yes." Riario sighed. "But Leo was concerned and in the finish we agreed that talking – unburdening myself - to you would be an acceptable compromise."

She froze, then nodded, pouring more amber liquid into the glasses. "I'm not qualified to do anything more than listen."

"That's part of the attraction."

Vanessa smiled. "Friends are therapists you can drink with, as the poster says." She stared at a framed picture nearby, a very realistic rendering of a vase of roses. "Leo! He's always moving my artwork around." She frowned and pointed to the back wall. "There. That's the poster I meant. Anyway. Sorry. Where do you want to start?"

"Maybe with a glass of this. It's nice."

She sipped the beer. "Mmm, I can taste a hint of chocolate, I think. Not too hoppy. You can have more later, when we've finished tasting the others." She regarded him, a crease of a frown between her neatly kept eyebrows. "I always thought you preferred wine."

"I can't enjoy both?"

Vanessa nodded, moving to open the next bottle. "You can enjoy whatever you want." She shook her head, puzzled. "So Leo suggested this?"

"Yes. This morning."

"I see." Her tone was neutral but he sensed her making assumptions, suppressing the urge to question him so that he could broach the subject when he was ready.

"I spent the night with him because he thought my rental was a dump."

Vanessa tipped her head. "Leo said that? He's a fine one to talk. One time we had to organise a refuse party."

That wasn't the direction he'd expected the conversation to go in and he blinked a few times. "A what?"

"Me, Zo, Nico, a lot of bin bags and some rubber gloves, taking out all the accumulated rubbish Leo left lying about when he was working on a particular project. Things tend to fall by the wayside when he's inspired. Things like used glasses and dirty clothes and newspapers and pizza boxes." She sighed. "You know how he gets. The place was always so much cleaner after you moved in."

Riario preened a little. "I do like things to be tidy."

She gave him a knowing glance. "So if Leo said your place was a dump…"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. It was. Is. I wasn't thinking straight when I took it on and I had to pay three months rent upfront. My personal finances were somewhat strained at the time."

She looked surprised. The idea of someone with a title being poor didn't add up for most people, but his family had no land now, and his father had cut him off the moment he'd refused to break up with Leo. Riario had investments but they were difficult to access immediately and he'd not been cautious with money, assured of his income. He'd intended to upgrade to more suitable accommodation but losing his job had come at an inopportune moment, and being fired had cost him that month's salary, money he'd been relying on receiving. The awful flat had seemed the least of his problems at that point.

"The truth is, Leonardo hadn't paid the mortgage for four months and I'd had to cover that and some other expenses we weren't expecting." Leo thought direct debits were for regular people with regular incomes and he tended to pay bills erratically at best. Riario had become accustomed to picking up the slack, and he'd been happy to do so when he'd been gainfully employed. "When I left him not long after, I was rather strapped for cash. So yes, the place was a dump." Partly to protect Leo from further guilt, and partly out of his own hurt pride, he added, "Don't tell Leonardo any of this." .  
Vanessa nodded, made a zipping motion over her lips.

"Anyway, not only did I take little convincing that I should go home with Leonardo, I was, in truth, rather glad to do so. And, because I can see you wondering about it, nothing happened except a good night's sleep and then one of our infamous fights."

"About?"

"Therapy." Wasn't she paying attention? "Hence I'm here." He gestured to the pub.

Vanessa took a breath. "Okay. Let's talk then. So, you and Leo…no, that's not right. I only really know you through Leo, but you had a life before him."

Riario smoothed a lock of his hair back. "Yes. It seems so very long ago…" He stopped.

Vanessa leaned forward. "Is it too awkward to talk to me, someone you know?" She was sympathetic rather than trying to brush him off. 

"I don't know. I can't imagine talking to a stranger either. Besides, we're not exactly friends."

She put one hand on his. "I wanted to be."

That came as a surprise. He saw nothing but honesty and compassion in her gaze. Her touch was light and warm, more soothing than he'd have expected. "You kept your distance from us," she said. "No matter how hard we tried to get to know you."

He kept everyone at a distance. It was better that way. Leo had been different, getting under his skin, insinuating himself so deeply into his life that Riario had sometimes found it hard to remember what it had been like before the artist began to haunt his dreams and to colour every aspect of his life.

That didn't mean he had to accept Leo's friends, who tolerated him out of politeness and love for Leo. It had never occurred to Riario that any of them might have actually wanted to bond with him.

"I tried," she said. "And Zo – well, okay, Zo…"

He laughed. "I know how Zo feels about me. It's all right. Go on."

"Well, I, and Nico…I think you like Nico, a little? You two seemed to have developed an understanding. You spent time with him when Leo wasn't around. Took him to a museum once, I think."

"Someone ought to make sure he's not neglecting his education," Riario said dryly.

"Anyway, we're Leo's friends. He says sometimes, that he wishes we were _your_ friends too." She moved her hand away, deftly snatching up his empty glass and moving to fill another. "I would have mourned, you know. If you'd died."

With honesty he appreciated, she went on, "Mostly for Leo's sake. He loves you more than I think you know. But also for you. When I think what you must have been going through to even consider it. You must have been hurting…" She trailed off, placed another beer, darker in colour, in front of him.

Riario picked up the glass but didn’t drink. "Leonardo doesn't understand. His life is so full of colour. His mind is so restless. He cannot grasp how darkness can sometimes take hold."

Vanessa put her elbows on the bar, eyes dark. "I understand."

"Do you?"

She licked at her lips, lowered her voice. "You can't tell Leo, this, all right? Confidentiality goes both ways."

Riario nodded and she stared at him, assessing him. She must have decided he was going to keep her secret, for she began the story.

"There was this one night. I had this crappy job I hated, people were being laid off, and I'd got nothing left in the bank if I did get fired. I had broken up with my boyfriend months before but that day I'd seen him out with his new girlfriend, all blonde and sexy and it made me feel like shit. It was Friday, so we were here, Leo, Zo, Nico; have a few drinks, the boys buying my rounds. We were sad because the owner was thinking of moving to France and this was our favourite place. One more loss. I wasn't even enjoying the drinks. I'd only had two and I couldn't face any more."

She paused. "The landlord was pretty lax about leaving the back staircase open and we'd go up to the roof sometimes. Zo likes to smoke up there even now, as you know. This night I slipped away while they were having some argument about darts or something. You know how they get."

She rolled her eyes. Riario nodded. When Leo and his friends started debating, things got heated very quickly. They wouldn't have noticed Vanessa leave.

"I just stood on the edge of the roof and I thought, one more step." She looked away, reliving the moment. "One more and it would be over. No more debt, no more worries, no more pain. Nothing."

There was a heavy silence.

"The difference is, you didn't jump," he observed wryly. He downed the shot glass of beer as if it were vodka, forgetting it wasn't a shot and that he was supposed to be analysing the flavour. Vanessa didn't comment, just passed him the bottle to refill the glass.

"True." She tasted her beer, found it to her satisfaction. "I never intended to. I didn't want to die, not really. I'm not even sure why I went up there. But it was this moment of glorious freedom. I had the choice. I got to choose to live." She made a note on the paper before saying, "So, we all went home and at three am Leo rang me up saying he'd had the most insanely brilliant idea. I should buy the pub."

Riario swigged the beer and pulled a face, not liking this last offering as much as the previous ones. Vanessa noted his reaction and reached beneath the bar, pulling out a small brown bottle and deftly opening it. "Try this, I think it's more to your taste. Where was I? Oh, yes, and of course I had no cash and it was three am and I was yelling at Leo, and he said _I'll give you the money_." She shook her head. "He'd just sold one of his patents and the money was burning a hole in his pocket. Next morning Nico came round to my flat and outlined a dozen reasons it was a really bad idea to buy a London pub in the current economy. Then he helped me draw up a business plan and made an appointment with the bank to get a loan for the rest of the money."

She gestured to the room in general. "Leo's still got a share of the pub, though I'm the owner and manager. It only took twelve months to break even and within eighteen months we were in profit and hiring more staff. I couldn’t have done it without him. He always means well. Sometimes his ideas even pan out."

Riario sipped the beer and nodded in approval. Vanessa beamed, her bartending skills having proven correct.

"You didn't want to listen to me praise Leo any more than you want to hear about my ridiculous trips to the roof," she said, beginning to clear away the shot glasses.

"I like hearing about his successes." He looked at the ceiling thoughtful. "I rather thought those rails were installed on the roof to stop Zo falling off."

"Mostly, yes. I've never been tempted again." She picked up a cloth and wiped away a few stray drops of ale from the dark bar top. "Can I ask why you and Leo broke up?"

"You can ask. I'm not sure I have an answer. Things got complicated." He ran one fingernail along the edge of the bottle's label. "I walked away."

Vanessa tipped her head. "Do you wish you hadn't?"

"If you mean would things have gone differently if I hadn't left him? If when I was dismissed from the job I'd worked my whole life for, having Leo there to console me - to come up with wild ideas at 3am – it would have stopped me?" He stared for a moment at his arm, the injury covered by his elegant suit jacket. "Maybe."

Vanessa drummed her fingers on the bar thoughtfully. "The Tower."

"Excuse me?"

"In the Tarot, the Tower is a card of great upheaval. Old structures are torn down." She leaned over the bar, her tone softer now. "You lost everything at once. Leo. Your job. Your father's approval."

He presumed Leo had told her that, but it wasn't hard for anyone paying attention to see that most of what Riario did was to try to please his father. Leo understood because he was the same, and the chances of actually achieving paternal praise were low in the extreme for them both.

Riario tried to lighten the solemn mood, gesturing airily with one hand. "Worse than the Death card?"

She didn't blink. "I'd argue yes. Death represents change, but the Tower is sudden, shocking. It tears at the very foundations of our lives and beliefs. But afterwards," and her eyes lit up, "afterwards is the Star. Renewal. Hope." She laughed, suddenly self conscious. "Listen to me. Do you think I need to drink more or less if I'm so deep and philosophical at this time in the morning?"

He smiled. "No, it's…the Star, you say? I'll drink to that." He took a gulp of the beer.

Vanessa came around the bar and perched on the stool next to him, smoothing out her dress over her knees. "You have my full attention now. Unload your worries and I'll shut up about rooftops and Tarot cards."

He took another sip of beer. Where to start?

"He didn't come to see me. Hasn't talked to me. Hasn't sent anyone, even, to see how I'm doing. My father," he added, realising she couldn't follow his abstract thought processes any more than he could follow Leo's. "I haven't seen him since I was, as he put it, let go, from the family business."

"Why were you fired?"

Riario sighed. "The official reason? Irregularities in my expense reports." He gave a harsh laugh. There were numerous things he'd done for his father that were sinful and illegal alike and yet this petty, manufactured, white collar crime was what had been chosen to oust him. There were rumours that his father was using it to bolster his own image as a righteous man; no–one was above justice, not even his own son. This from the man who thought the law did not apply to him. Riario tasted bile, took another swallow of beer.

"The unofficial reason?" Vanessa asked, tone soft.

"Leonardo. My increasing reluctance to play lapdog to my father's wishes. I don't know what in particular prompted my dismissal." He frowned. "No, I think I do. He knew I had moved out of the house. He thought I'd come to my senses." He shook his head. "It wasn't for him or because of him that I left, and that made him angry. I still wouldn't apologise for loving another man."

Riario stared down at the carpet, letting his gaze follow the gentle trails of beige and gold which meandered over the crimson background. "He fired me to hurt me." 

"While you were already vulnerable?" Vanessa was shocked, disgusted. A therapist shouldn't let their emotions show but she could, and he was heartened that someone was taking his side. It seemed that no-one but Leo had ever really been on his side, loyal to a fault.

"I suppose he hoped it would be the final straw. That I would capitulate and beg forgiveness." He met her gaze again. "I suppose it was the final straw, but not in the way he wanted."

She shook her head. "He surely didn't want to see you dead."

"Not that way, certainly." He rolled his eyes. "Suicide is an unforgivable sin."

"Only if you succeed." She gave him a sad smile. "But I don't believe that. I couldn't believe in any god who'd punish someone who was already in so much pain that they couldn't bear to live."

Riario appreciated the sentiment, even if went against Church doctrine – though more liberal interpretations suggested suicide was not a conscious act of sin, on the grounds of diminished responsibility. Then again, he wasn't sure he cared what the Church said; he was no longer certain what he believed. He'd spent his life trying to be the kind of god-fearing man his father wanted and where had it gotten him? 

"He already hated that I fell in love with Leonardo." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his tone. "For what's it worth, I couldn't believe God would punish someone for love. But my father has always had very strict, very Old Testament, views on so many things." He took a swig of beer. "He'd have hated me dating an artist, anyway. Or inventor or whatever moniker Leonardo has chosen for himself this week. He'd hate you too, a woman running a business, a bartender, a, a, well, to his mind, a commoner!" He slammed the bottle down. "God, he's an asshole!"

Vanessa nodded fervently. "That's where your anger belongs. Not directed inwards."

Riario put his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths. Vanessa's hand was on his shoulder and the simple act of comfort almost sent him over the edge. When he'd recovered a little, he smoothed back his hair. Vanessa kept her grip on him and he found himself looking at her in a way he'd never done before. There was a depth to her that he'd overlooked previously, a compassion he'd never appreciated until now.

"I never knew my mother," he said, apropos of nothing except the thought of a kindly female presence in his life, something he'd always lacked. His voice was tight and his throat aching from suppressed emotion. "It's something I share with Leonardo. Sometimes I think that's all we have in common, our hurt. Lost mothers, disapproving fathers. It's not enough."

Vanessa squeezed his shoulder. "You're both more than your losses. I look at you and Leo when you're together and I see how much you are in love. I don't know what happened to change that, or to make you doubt it, but I hope you can find a way through it."

He nodded, unable to speak.

"You're more alike than you think," she went on. "And your differences make you stronger. You keep Leo grounded, when he loses sight of reality completely. And he…"

Riario felt a moment of warmth, lips quirking despite himself. "He tries to show me how to fly."

Vanessa released him and sat back, tidying her hair, giving him chance to gather himself. He appreciated her easy going nature, the way she was giving him support and space as he needed it.

Riario found he regretted not getting to know Vanessa better much sooner. There had been reasons, though none seemed important now, except maybe one. "Can I ask you something now?"

"Of course."

He touched his tongue to his lips, approaching the subject delicately. "You and Leonardo..."

She understood, nodding. "Only once though. I think we were both interested in what it might be like. We never felt the need to do it again. I love him like family, but he's not what I want in a lover."

Riario was reassured, if a little jealous of their bond. Perhaps if he and Leo had been friends first they wouldn't fight all the time. They'd gone from damn near enemies straight into a turbulent affair that had somehow turned into a relationship until it had fallen off a cliff.

"The first time we had sex it was practically a dare," Riario mused, raising his eyes heavenward as he went on, "And the first time he told me he loved me was up on the roof of this pub."

*

Riario was pressed against the wall in an upstairs room while, downstairs, their fathers made genteel barbs at each other, and people with more money than sense were encouraged to part with the former. Leo had no money to donate to causes charitable or otherwise, but his father did, and since that European prince had purchased one of Leo's paintings, and gone on to commission a sculpture to grace his summer palace, Leo's father was letting his bastard son tag along almost everywhere. Royal connections, no matter how tenuous, could overcome all manner of social hurdles.

Riario wasn't sure why he'd followed Leo upstairs to prowl the deserted conference rooms. He was bored, and while he'd accused Leo of casing the place when he located him, he rather thought Leo had simply wandered off because he was bored too. He'd probably been more interested in the chandeliers than the celebrities, and the champagne rather than the dull conversation.

The argument had got a lot more physical than expected.

"Are you calling me a thief?" Leo demanded, and Riario had sneered at him and turned away, showing his contempt. It had been a mistake. He'd underestimated Leo's anger, not to mention his speed and strength and, while he reacted to the attack, wrestling with Leo so that both their suit jackets were creased and rumpled, it was Riario who ended up with his back literally against the wall.

Leo was so close that Riario could feel the artist's breath on his cheek. He did nothing, waiting for Leo to make his next move, yet Leo did nothing but stare at him, the anger melting away from his hazel eyes, and a different kind of intensity taking its place.

"Are you going to hit me or kiss me?" Riario taunted.

Leo laughed and cruelly dug his thumb under Riario's collarbone. "Which would you prefer, my Lord?"

The use of the title, a joke these days, irked Riario as it was intended to do. He retaliated by kissing Leo first, catching him off guard, a clash of lips and teeth that was meant to bruise.

Leo was breathless when he withdrew, but there was no anger or shame in his eyes. He looked thrilled. "Fuck me," he said, not an exclamation of surprise, but a request, a demand, even.

Riario swallowed. He hadn't expected to enjoy the fierce kiss but he had. For a while now he'd found himself watching the celebrated artist with unnatural interest. He'd told himself he was studying a potential thorn in his father's side. When that wasn't enough, he had worked up a hatred of the arrogant inventor.

It wasn't until that moment that he understood the fine line between love and hate.

"Oh, right, you can't commit a sin," Leo said, releasing him and stepping away. Riario tackled him and they fought on the richly carpeted floor, exchanging blows, grappling, and then Leo was on top and he stole a kiss (and, though he didn't really know it then, Riario's heart). Riario struggled, fought for dominance, until he was sat astride Leo's legs, and again Leo was not upset at this turn of events, but eager.

Riario unbuttoned Leo's shirt with deliberate slowness meant to unnerve the artist. The effect was instead arousing, Leo's breathing came faster and shallower, while Riario tried to hide his own growing exhilaration. The white cotton was pushed open to reveal a surprisingly well sculpted physique. He ran one fingernail down Leo's breastbone, revelling in seeing Leo's excitement, warm lips parted in anticipation.

"Beg me," Riario demanded, throat raw, not expecting Leo to obey.

"Fuck me," Leo said again, like a prayer. "Take me, my Lord."

Riario's fingers strayed lower, Leo's hips bucking in response. To finally have such power over this man! Riario let his fingers slide beneath the waistband of Leo's boxers. He hesitated.

"Riario," Leo whispered.

He ought to stop. It was wrong, sinful. So he'd been told, over and over. Yet Riario felt his own body respond to Leo's arousal. He bit down on his lip.

"I have condoms," Leo said, not so breathless, almost conversational. "If that's why you've stopped."

"You think that's what I want?" Riario demanded, fingers seeking Leo's cock. "Your dick in me?"

"Or yours in me." Leo closed his eyes in pleasure-pain as Riario's fingers tightened around his shaft. "Or this. This is good."

And it was.

*

Riario avoided the artist for two weeks afterwards. It ought to have been easy but somehow the man seemed to be everywhere. It should be on his business cards: The Ubiquitous Leonardo; artist extraordinaire, visionary, inventor.

He took to stalking Leo's social media accounts, trying to stay one step ahead. Riario only used his Facebook for professional purposes, to be accessed from the public page maintained by his father's company. He never mentioned his relationship status or gave personal details such as where he was living, at least until later, when he wanted to irritate his father. Whereas Leo's Facebook was a mess of random photos which included not only his artwork, but a lot of selfies and pictures of his friends, and reposts of all manner of things which Leo found interesting, from the plight of endangered orang-utans to etymology and astronomy.

Leo also had a professional website with properly staged photos of his work, reviews from satisfied customers, and a contact form. A photo of a brooding Leo graced each page, the sort of portrait you found in catalogues where male models pretended to be thinking important or sexy thoughts imparted by the fashionable sweater they were wearing.

Arrogant bastard, Riario thought, clicking through the reviews. Skilful and inventive, he had to admit, but that photo was art in its own right, capturing Leo's hubris and disdain for social mores.

When Riario saved a copy of the website background it was, of course, purely for research purposes. The selfie Leo had taken outside a pub he frequented, grinning like he'd won the lottery, Riario couldn't really justify downloading, yet he couldn't bring himself to delete it.

Concerned by his growing obsession, Riario refused to attend a function Leo had mentioned on Facebook. He faked a migraine – barely a lie, for he hadn't slept well for over a week, and had no appetite, eating only out of necessity. This earned him a vicious tirade from his father about duty, weakness, and malingering. He'd gone to bed early, though with little hope of sleep, and tried to immerse himself in a book, but the prose did not enthral him. All he could think of was Leo's stupid face and damn hair and sparkling eyes.

Leo was conceited and talented and demonstrative. Yes, to be so free with his emotions; Riario was partly disgusted while being partly impressed, as well as experiencing a touch of envy for the ease with which Leo moved through the world as if the rules barely applied to him. Riario was self-contained and that was useful, responsible. It was half by birth and half by training that he was, as he'd heard more than one person call him, a "cold hearted bastard".

Bastard by name and by nature.

Leo didn't seem to mind any of this. Leo seemed to see him as some sort of challenge. He took great delight in provoking and aggravating Riario at every turn. To his chagrin, Riario found himself unable to resist the bait.

It wasn't that they were alike, except for all the ways they undeniably were, giving them insight into each other's psyche. It was all the ways they were different. Two sides of the same coin.

Where Leo cheerfully flirted his way around London and beyond, heedless of gender or race, Riario had never been one for dalliances. He indulged in few relationships, mindful of propriety, bored by most women his father would approve of, instead throwing himself into his work and his efforts to earn his father's appreciation. The few he had taken to his bed were all women.

Now there was the artist, and Riario felt stirrings of desire and of something he dared not label beyond "affection". It should have been inconceivable but, alone in his bed, all he thought of now was Leo.

He gave in to his base desires, pleasuring himself roughly, and when he came, it was with Leonardo's name on his lips.

*

The following week, Leonardo could not be avoided. Riario's father was sick, and, Riario noted with displeasure, this was not considered to be malingering and Riario was expected to provide sympathy and to pick up the slack.

So, in his father's stead, Riario attended another tiresome function. He would have preferred not to be in the limelight, but on the sidelines, acknowledged when necessary but enigmatic. Respected, even feared. His duties were two-fold; he worked in the light as the dutiful son, but he was also the bastard son who sometimes had to work in the dark, getting his hands dirty. Fear was a great motivator, and someone who was rubbing elbows with dukes was largely regarded as weak and ineffectual, a product of the modern malaise surrounding nobility.

Leonardo accidentally on purpose bumped into his elbow. Riario bit back his first response, clutching the stem of his glass.

"Sorry," Leonardo said, smile too bright. Not sorry at all. But he would be, Riario swore, sooner or later. "I missed you at the duke's party."

Riario, mindful of how he'd spent that evening, made no response and Leo shrugged, sipping his champagne.

"Have you seen my portrait? Not of me," Leo laughed. "Of Lady Agnes." To Riario's shock, Leo grabbed his free hand and all but dragged him to admire the painting. "She's delighted with it."

"I'm sure."

"Don't hurt yourself with such enthusiasm," Leo said. "I expect that from Zo, but you know about art. All that education." He squeezed at Riario's fingers, and Riario wrenched his hand from the artist's grasp.

"Do you know who I am?" he hissed, and it was a stupid thing to say, but the words had left his lips before he could think of anything more threatening.

"Girolamo Riario," Leo said. "Why? Don't you know? Did you hit your head?" He brushed his fingers against Riario's temple in faux concern.

Riario batted his hand away. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. His menacing tone had instilled fear and respect in many a man, but his ire only encouraged Leo further.

Leo leaned in. "To return the favour." Lust played at the corners of his lips while his eyes danced with mischief, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"That wasn't a favour," he hissed. "You weren't supposed to enjoy it!"

Leo looked distressed. "Really? Were you trying to hurt me? Rape me?"

Riario nearly exploded. "No!" A woman wearing grey silk and three strings of pearls looked over at them and he lowered his voice again. "How dare you! I would never!"

"I know." Leo's tone was soft, affectionate, now. He wound his fingers into Riario's jacket sleeve, caressing the wool. "I think you did want me to enjoy it. I think you enjoyed it more than you dare admit to yourself." He lowered his voice, now husky with desire. "I think you want to do it again."

"What on earth makes you think I want a repeat performance?" He was supposed to be in control, not Leonardo. This was not at all going to plan.

"Tell me to go, and I'll go," Leo whispered. "But you'll always wonder what had happened if, for once in your life, you chose what you wanted instead of what was expected of you. If you had dared to explore what delights lurk outside your limited sphere of expertise."

Riario drained his champagne, pulse quickening. "You think I am sheltered, ignorant of the world and its baser instincts?"

"Only in the practical applications," Leo returned. "At least with your own gender. I play for both teams. I know what I'm doing. Let me show you."

Riario could have sworn he said no. In his mind he pushed Leonardo away, or backhanded him, walked out the door. Somehow none of those things happened.

Somehow he let Leonardo take him upstairs to return the favour with interest. Somehow he ended up shirtless, with Leo's dexterous fingers tracing his skin before undoing the button to his trousers. He could feel Leo's erection pressing against his thigh as Leo leaned in to murmur in his ear.

"I can show you pleasures you have never dreamed of," Leo promised, and Riario closed his eyes, torn between his pride and his desire. He found he did not want to fight any longer. He gave in, and let Leo introduce him to passions he'd never imagined indulging in.

*

As Riario buttoned up his shirt, Leo lazing, naked, on the bed – some maidservant was going to have tidy up after some unexpected guests – said, "I wish you'd stay. I want to sketch you."

"We shouldn't be here," Riario pointed out. "We certainly shouldn't be doing this, at all. If we were to be caught –"

"Is that your main concern? That we might be caught?" Leo rolled off the bed, getting easily to his feet. He stood behind Riario, wrapping one arm around his chest. Riario leaned into the embrace despite himself. "Tell me again how sinful this is."

"Extremely."

Leo pressed a kiss to his cheek, "This is where you tell me it cannot happen again."

Riario had intended to say exactly that, but the words kept getting stuck in his throat. "I should. But I can't. Dear Lord, do you know what you're doing to me?" Mentally, emotionally, spiritually, he meant.

Leo interpreted it physically, murmuring, "Getting you hard again?"

Riario licked dry lips, put his hand over Leo's as it began to slide downwards to more intimate territory. "You're everything I shouldn't want."

"Likewise," Leo said. He released Riario and wandered back to the bed, hunting for his clothes. "The difference is that I'm willing to adapt."

Riario couldn't bring himself to say anything more. He stared out of the window at the dark, rain-soaked streets, for several minutes. Leo finished dressing and left the room, closing the door behind him.

With a deep sigh, Riario finally turned back to the room. He smoothed out the sheets before he left, and spent the rest of the evening worrying that his hair was ruffled, that Leo's scent was on him, that people would know what he had done.

It was a relief that no-one seemed to notice. Yet he also found it pained him that something so momentous, so wondrous and awful alike, this thing that was tearing him apart inside, was outwardly invisible, as if it had never happened at all.

*

Three days later he got a letter, the address on the envelope beautifully handwritten. He opened it to find a pencil sketch of himself, head and shoulders, wearing his tuxedo. There was also a note that read "I sketched from memory, another of my many talents. I have another, of both of us, if you'd like to see it. Leonardo."

His first instinct was to ball it up and throw it away. His second was that a Leonardo creation of any sort was potentially valuable and not to be discarded.

Was that a threat of blackmail in the note? Not that a sketch of them both was proof, but if Leo then started telling everyone they were sleeping together the gossip would spread like wildfire and his reputation would be ruined.

That evening he went to the oddly named pub, _The Little Flea_ , which Leo frequented with his friends, the political science student, Nico, and jack-of-all-trades Zo, and the landlady, who he was fairly sure was called Vanessa. Not that Riario had been _stalking_ Leo.

His quarry was seated near the window, the table piled with empty glasses and used dishes. Leo was laughing, head thrown back, while Zo talked, one hand clutching a pint glass, the other waving around as he told a story. Nico shook his head, further disturbing his crow's nest hair, but he was smiling.

Leo fell silent as Riario approached, his shadow falling across the table. Zo halted, mid-sentence, staring up at him with suspicion. Nico leant back in his chair, curious.

"I received your letter." Riario let a hint of anger show through, but Leo paid it no need, merely nodded.

"Did you like it?"

"We need to talk." Riario gestured to the other two men, dismissing them as irrelevant. "Privately."

Leo stood. "Follow me."

Again he was taking the lead, and Riario had little choice but to follow him. Leo ducked behind the bar, waving to a redhead who was pulling pints. "Just going upstairs, Vanessa."

She nodded, returning her attention to a customer. Riario followed Leo through a side door into a storage room, and through another door leading to a narrow set of steps. The stairwell was unlit and Riario was relieved when Leo pushed open the upper door, letting the moonlight in.

Riario found himself on the flat roof of the pub. He'd be lying if he said the view was spectacular, but it was better than ground level. Railings, less weathered than the rest of the area, suggested they were more recent additions. Perhaps there was a plan to make it into a roof garden. They'd have to do something about the stairs first.

Leo leant back against a far rail, the breeze catching at his hair. "We can talk here."

Riario exhaled, lost for words. It was far easier to imagine the harsh, unambiguous, words that would put a stop to this – dare he use the term "relationship"? - than to actually say them when confronted with the sight of this beautiful, intelligent, and charming man.

"Or not talk," Leo said, voice husky, bringing Riario's attention to focus as sharply as a bucket of cold water.

"We cannot keep doing this."

Leo shoved his hands in his pockets. "Why?"

"You know why."

"Because your father's an asshole. Because you think loving me is wrong. Because you're more concerned with your image than your happiness." Leo shook his head. "Fuck your father. Not, literally, I mean."

Riario laughed, heard in it an unwelcome edge of hysteria, and tried very hard to regain control. Leo wandered back over to him.

"That's the first time I've heard you laugh," he said softly. "Those polite titters at parties don't count. They're play acting. You spend a lot of time acting a part, don't you? The ruthless businessman. The merciless enforcer."

Riario raised an eyebrow. Leo nodded. "Yes, I've heard the rumours."

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"No." Leo looked up at the stars. "What a beautiful night."

"Don't change the subject."

"You should laugh more often," Leo said, veering the conversation back further than he'd expected.

"Maybe I don't have much to laugh about." They were flirting. Riario wasn't intending to, but he was certain that's what was happening now. Events always seemed to spiral out of his control when Leo was around.

"That's sad." Leo spun around, arms outstretched. "There's so much to be happy about in the world. If you're willing to embrace it."

Riario wanted so much to be angry, but Leo's childlike joy was infectious. Given half a chance, Leo would waltz him around the rooftop, and, God forgive him, Riario would probably let him do it. No, Riario told himself, he had business to attend to.

"Are you planning on blackmailing me?" he asked bluntly.

Leo came to such an abrupt stop he almost fell over. "What?"

"You mentioned another sketch."

Realisation dawned in the brown eyes, expressive eyes that were green in the right light, not that Riario had spent an inordinate amount of time staring into them. "No. That's personal. Between us!" Leo looked hurt at the insinuation and glanced away for a moment. "I don't want to destroy you, Riario. But I do want to love you. I do, you know. Love you."

Riario gave a harsh laugh that Leo would not approve of. "Love? Don't be ridiculous."

"Why is it ridiculous?" Leo demanded, facing him more once. "Because you don't feel the same way, at least yet? I know how I feel. This isn't just fucking. It's more than that."

This was the last thing Riario wanted to hear. He'd helped cover up enough scandalous liaisons to know that everyone made mistakes, sometimes even twice. It was just sex, people letting their desires overwhelm their common sense. It wasn't love. That was the case here, too, it had to be. Leo was a mistake he should not make a third time.

"I do know what I'm doing to you," Leo went on. "Making you question your beliefs, reconsider your position. I don't want to hurt you. I will walk away. But I don't want to. Do you?"

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Leo clasped Riario's chin in one hand. There was charcoal beneath his thumbnail and he smelled of musk and ale. Riario knew he should pull away and it would be an end to this madness. Instead, he drew Leo close and kissed him. For the first time it was gentle, loving, not born of passion, not hateful nor desperate.

"I won't out you," Leo said softly when he pulled back. "But I won't live a lie, either. If you want this, if you want me, then you have to take it, all of it, all of me, and damn the consequences."

Riario looked away. "I don't love you," he said, and it was a lie he was telling himself as much to Leo.

"Then for now I'll love for both of us." Leo caressed Riario's hair. "Just give us a chance."

*   


Riario lowered his gaze. "He said he could love for us both, until I felt the same." He gave a wry smile. "It didn't take long. I didn't need to fall in love. I just had to accept that I was already in love with him."

Vanessa inclined her head slightly. "I understand."

"I don't know how it went so wrong. It wasn’t any of the reasons I expected we wouldn't last." Money, class, parental disapproval. Riario had been prepared for arguments over those things. "It was all the little things, I suppose. His thoughtlessness. The way he began to take me for granted."

Vanessa nodded intently, clearly identifying with this. "When you left, did you intend to go back if he apologised?"

"No." Riario swallowed, re-examined the statement and found it to be true. "I intended it to be a clean break. I'm not someone who gives second chances."

"But you barely packed." She shrugged. "So Leo said. He kept insisting you'd return."

Riario shifted on the bar stool. "You think subconsciously I did intend to go back?"

"That's not for me to say."

She was rather good at playing therapist, he thought. And she was prettier and less brusque than the clipped voiced, shaven headed, male he'd had to deal with at the hospital. Plus she'd given him a beer. He'd rate her highly on any customer satisfaction questionnaire.

"Why the smile?" she asked.

He wasn't aware he'd let his thoughts show on his face. It was a by-product of Leo's influence that Riario now frequently forgot to keep his guard up. "I was just comparing you favourably to previous encounters with the psychiatric profession."

"I'm glad it's favourable." She gave him a warm smile. "You spent the night with Leo. Are you moving back in?"

"I suppose I am." He had nowhere better to go, and nowhere else he'd rather be when he thought rationally about it.

"How does it feel? To give him a second chance?"

"I don't know. It feels comfortable?" He shrugged at his own question. "Better than that. He's being attentive. The honeymoon phase I suppose, and it's nice. But it's almost too easy. I'm worried that we'll just fall back into old patterns, as if we didn't have problems. It's not enough. I can't pretend we didn't break up. That I didn't…"

Vanessa stayed quiet, keeping eye contact, interested but patient.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he said at last. "About my job. About Leo. About us." It felt good to admit it, to acknowledge he had no answers.

She nodded. "That's all right. You'll figure it out. Give yourself some time. Give yourself some space too, if you need to. Don't let Leo suffocate you with his affection. If your funds stretch to it, get a hotel room. If you're desperate, well, I don't have a spare room, but I have a sofa."

"I'll bear that in mind," he said, touched by the simple but genuine offer.

"Zo's slept on it a few times," she said, as if this were a selling point, adding, making it quite the opposite, "Of course he'll sleep anywhere."

At least once they'd found Zo dozing in a skip at the edge of a construction site, Riario recalled, half a kebab still clutched in one hand.

"Zo can't be glad I survived," he said, running through the insults Zo had heaped on him during the early stages of his relationship with Leo. The insults had dwindled, though not stopped, while glares and snide comments had mostly taken their place.

"That's a bit harsh," Vanessa said. "He doesn't much like you, and admittedly he was rather pleased when you broke up with Leo, but I don't believe he wants to see you dead."

Riario wasn't so sure, though he was a little taken aback by her bluntness. "I see."

She must have seen his surprise because she leaned forward a little. "I'm not going to lie to you," she said, and he believed her, heard the earnestness in her tone. "I won't treat you like porcelain either. That's not what you need or want. Anything you do need or want, within reason, I shall give you. I can give you praise and encouragement, but I won't sugar-coat things. If you want sweet nothings, well, that's Leo's job, if you and he both still want that."

He nodded. Yes, he understood and accepted it. And yes, he rather thought he did want sweet nothings from Leo.

Vanessa turned back to the subject of Zo. "If you want to get on better with Zo, you'll both have to work at it."

"Buy him a beer and a kebab?"

She laughed. "He's not quite that easy, but it'd be a good start."

Riario smiled, glanced at his watch, aware it was almost opening time. "Are we done?"

"If you are done, then yes. I just have one more question, that I'm pretty sure you've answered several times already to people you might have felt the need to lie to. I'm not going to judge or call the police, whatever you say." She spread her hands, look, no phone.

He swallowed. "No," he said, knowing what she was going to ask. "I am no longer feeling suicidal."

"All right. But if you ever do feel that way, I am here. I will do whatever I can, and I will always listen. I mean it. Call me if you need to, day or night. If Leo can wake me at 3am for madcap ideas, you can do so if it's a matter of life and death."

Riario got to his feet. "Thank you. I appreciate it." He gave a wry smile. "So, Doctor Vanessa, should we do this again?"

"Whenever you want to." She slid from the stool, and smoothed her hand along his sleeve, shoulder to elbow, a gentle gesture of affection that touched him more than it probably should. "Let me show you out."

She locked the door behind him before the thirsty hordes could pounce on the pub, desperate for the lunch specials and real ale. Riario walked to the nearest taxi rank and hailed a cab.


	3. Chapter 3

Riario spent the cab journey home being grateful for having had the chance to unburden himself without the risk of incurring a further psychiatric hold, a punishment from his father, or a string of Hail Marys.

He reflected that while Leo had never kept it a secret that he'd once slept with Vanessa, they'd never actually discussed it. The subject of past lovers was a complex and painful one.

Of course Leo flirted with everyone. Riario had reluctantly learnt to accept this; Leo was hardly aware he was doing it most of the time. He was naturally charming; gregarious and affectionate. All the things Riario was not, though he was polite and erudite, and that usually sufficed in his social circles.

Most of the time there was no need for jealousy. Leo would give a woman a compliment that left her glowing for the rest of the evening, and while he was sincere, there was no ulterior motive there. He wasn't planning to bed her. He'd charm men, bonding with them easily. Or he'd make them uncomfortable with his insistence on invading their personal space, would, if necessary, brush off their pointed barbs with a snarky comeback and move on to talk to someone else.

Not everyone understood this however. One evening, at the opening of an art installation by one of Leo's friends, Leo was at his most charming. He slipped one arm around a young woman, gesturing with his free hand as he gave his personal interpretation of the piece they were admiring. It was platonic, Riario knew. In order to keep his jealousy and his own desires in check, he'd been further studying Leo. Not through web searches and photographs this time, but in the flesh, and by questioning Leo in-depth. There were differences in how Leo behaved towards people he genuinely found attractive. Even if he swore up and down he was being faithful to Riario, he was willing to admit when he met someone that, under other circumstances, he'd gladly sleep with.

Leo had dragged Riario along to the event as his plus one. There had been a few raised eyebrows but there were plenty of Leo's kind of people here, tolerant artistic types, mixed in with the more conservative rich art lovers who made up Riario's crowd, and no-one had accosted them openly about it. Hell, they could be there as friends, which not so long ago would have been just as outrageous a thought.

Riario sipped the mid-priced champagne and dutifully studied the artwork despite his lack of interest. Leo had disappeared to talk to someone he knew, and gone on to mingle, soon drawing the young woman in question into conversation.

"What do you think you're doing?" a man demanded. He was a little taller than Leo, wearing an ill-fitting suit and a fierce scowl, blue eyes narrowed in anger.

Leo gestured again. "We were talking about this piece," he said blithely. Riario sighed and moved towards them before things got out of hand.

"Take your hand off my girl," the man said through gritted teeth. Leo looked at his arm, then at the newcomer, then back at his arm, feigning puzzlement.

The woman shrugged free of Leo. "Don't make a scene, Danny," she begged.

"I'm not the one being pawed by this degenerate," Danny retorted.

Degenerate? Riario wouldn't have thought Danny the sort to know any four syllable words. People could surprise you. However he was fairly certain Danny was the sort to be easily provoked to violence.

"Is there a problem?" Riario's tone was silky, implicitly threatening.

Danny turned to glower at him. "What's it to you?" He tugged his sleeve away from the woman who was trying to pull him away. No doubt this was a regular occurrence, and likely she would be in trouble when they got home. Men as insecure as Danny tended to react badly to any challenge to their perceived authority.

Danny assumed because he had the advantage in height and weight that he was therefore superior, tougher. Riario had been handling bullies his entire life. Danny was no real threat to him, and Riario was ready to accept a few blows if that's what it took to deal with him - but he'd be damned if he would let anyone hurt Leo.

Leo gave a too bright laugh. "There's no need for violence," he said. The woman nodded frantically in agreement, but this was no longer about them. Riario had challenged Danny, and Danny would not back down.

Riario affected boredom, hands clasped behind his back, casting his eyes upwards away from Danny who was unworthy of his attention. "I cannot stand by while you harass Leonardo."

Danny scoffed. "Leonardo," he repeated. "Pretentious name for a fucking faggot."

Riario winced. Now things were definitely going to end badly. Like lightening, he moved, grabbed Danny's arm. Before the man was even aware of what was happening, Danny found his wrist twisted painfully behind his back. Riario, now standing behind Danny's shoulder pitched his voice low. "I suggest you apologise."

Danny gave a strangled sob. His struggle to free himself only increased the pressure on his wrist. His girlfriend was watching, open mouthed. Leo was following the proceedings with relaxed interest.

"Woe betide anyone who threatens Leonardo," Riario said, applying more pressure. "And, in answer to the question you so badly want to ask me in, no doubt, a mocking tone, yes. He is my boyfriend."

He released Danny, shoving him as he did so, sending the man stumbling several paces away. Danny cradled his injured wrist, glaring at Riario through eyes damp with tears of pain. "You bastard!"

A security officer came over at that moment. Riario gave a nod of acknowledgement to him. "We were just leaving," he said, putting one hand on Leo's arm and urging him towards the entrance.

"I'm your boyfriend?" Leo was unable to hide his delight.

It wasn't the way Riario would have chosen to begin making their relationship public, but what was done was done. "It would appear so."

"I thought you hated that word."

Riario bit back a sigh. "I do. I was rather pressed for time to consider a suitable alternative."

"Lover," Leo supplied. "No, don't say that's makes it just about sex because I do, you know, _love_ you. Anyway, I could have handled him myself you know. It was a bit of an over-reaction, Worth it to have you use the 'b' word though. And pretty impressive. Can you show me how to do that?"

Riario shook his head at the enthusiastic prattle in general rather than as a refusal in particular, though Leo assumed the latter.

"I teach you things all the time," Leo pouted before giving a wide smile. "I've just thought of something I'm going to show you when we get home."

"Home?"

Leo hesitated. "You are coming back with me tonight, aren't you?" He tipped his head. "I changed the sheets."

Riario had been spending more nights than he cared to admit at Leo's house. He let Leo get a them a taxi and take them back to the cosy house that always smelt faintly of paint and turpentine, a scent that Riario now associated strongly with Leo, and as a result found pleasing.

More drinks were served, there was plenty of caressing, and then, upstairs, there was more kissing, followed by undressing.

"Fuck me," Leo urged, his prone form sprawled across the bed. "It’s your turn." Riario didn't argue. He'd fallen into the habit of letting Leo take the lead regarding which particular sensual and sexual acts they were to engage in, including who did what to whom. Leo was the inventive one, the experienced one, and it made sense to let him dictate terms. 

Besides, Riario was used to taking orders. At least Leo's commands meant pleasure, or pleasure-pain, rather than outright pain and suffering. And if Riario protested, Leo always capitulated. For all his artistic temperance and impatience, Leo was never forceful when it came to sex. And, on the rare occasion that Riario suggested an activity, Leo was almost always amenable.

Afterwards, spent, and utterly satisfied, Riario said, "I don't like the term 'lover' either. But I do, too."

Leo stroked the line of Riario's jaw, a sly smile on his face. "Do what?"

Usually Riario would dissemble, change the subject, kiss Leo again rather than say the words. It was a game they played. Yet this time Riario was finally ready to admit it, could not deny his feelings any longer. Leo had been patient long enough.

"Love you, my darling artist."

The hazel eyes lit up. "Honestly?"

"Yes. I love you." Riario kissed Leo, savouring the taste of him. A few more kisses after that he said, "Thank you for waiting. For loving enough for the both of us."

Leo gave him a warm smile. "You all mock me, but sometimes my bizarre ideas pay off."

It wasn't long before Leo began pointing out that Riario may as well just move in, now that they weren't keeping their relationship secret any longer.

"We'll fight all the time," Riario protested.

"We fight anyway! We'll just get better at making up."

As always, Leo had a point, and so Riario had made Leo's house into his home. And while they'd lost their way for a while, Riario thought as he paid the taxi driver, if Leo had such faith in their relationship, he ought to, too. It was true he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but Riario knew that, no matter what, Leo wouldn't let him face things alone.

"What do you think?" Leo asked when Riario entered the lounge.

"What is it supposed to be?" There seemed to be as much paint on the sheets covering the floor as on the canvas, and the canvas itself was filled with colours and shapes but no obvious theme. Riario thought a cloud in one corner was supposed to be a dove, while below it the blue deepened, possibly into an ocean, where watery cogs churned up waves.

"Hope. Destiny. Forward thinking."

"Those are not exactly all the same concepts."

Leo deflated, shoulders slumping. "I know. That's the thing with corporate contracts. They pay you for a painting but they want the moon and the stars."

"Since when you do take on corporate contracts?"

"Since I needed to pay the mortgage." Leo had the decency to look guilty. "You shouldn't have been paying all the bills."

"Someone had to." Riario gave a rueful grin. "For now, that someone will have to be you."

"That's only fair." Leo gestured with a wide edged brush, returning his attention to the painting. "This is the logo, see? They want it incorporated into all of the artwork."

Riario regarded it critically. "Subliminally? Brainwashing?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Leo said, without conviction. He brightened, tossing aside the brush and rubbing grubby hands over paint stained trousers. "Did you talk to Vanessa?"

"I did."

"And?"

Riario shrugged. "It was fine. Helpful. Private."

Leo nodded. "Of course."

He'd probably ask Vanessa what had transpired, but Riario was confident that themes and overall issues that Leo was already aware of were the only things Vanessa would share. Details would be kept confidential, as promised.

Riario went to make tea, sighing when he realised there were no clean mugs or cups left. He began to load the dishwasher. He supposed he ought to be glad the kitchen wasn't a sea of unsorted recycling and overflowing rubbish bags.

*

Still feeling a mixture of relief and guilt, and desperate to show his suitability as a partner, Leo insisted on cooking the evening meal, humming as he busied himself at the hob. Riario laid the dining table, placing cutlery with a precision usually reserved for high class restaurants.

"Leonardo?"

Leo stirred the contents of the wok. "Yes?"

Riario took the orange juice from the fridge and poured a glass before he continued. "Vanessa tells me you're part owner of _The Little Flea_."

"Yes." Leo took a quick taste of the food and added some more soy sauce. "I loaned her some money and it was just easier if I was a partner in the business. Legal stuff, taxes…my father's accountant handled the details." He grinned, adding, "Sometimes I get dividends."

Riario's tongue flicked out, catching a drop of orange juice. Leo felt his stomach flip-flop and tried very hard to concentrate on not burning the food. Later there might be pleasant things happen that involved Riario's tongue, but right now it would be best that he feed his beloved.

"I'd like to buy you out."

Leo's head spun, the way it did when he'd just had a revelatory idea about the world, or a project, or both. There was a hissing sound and he remembered to work at moving the wok contents lest they stick.

Leo frowned. Sometimes in a moment of frustration, Riario would say that Leo had dragged him "down the rabbit hole and through the looking glass" which was rather an exaggeration, Leo believed, because while he didn't see the world quite as others did, he did live in the same reality as Riario. At the notion of Riario buying into a public house, even Leo's creative mind rebelled for a millisecond, and he finally grasped the feeling behind the phrase.

Leo had always preferred the quote "sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast", because that seemed inspirational. You had to imagine, and then believe in what you'd imagined, to create things. Now he was tending towards the "we're all mad here" frame of mind.

"You want to part-own the pub?" Perhaps he'd misunderstood, though the response assured him he was not.

"Yes. I have some assets I can cash in. It ought to be affordable." Riario put down his glass and moved to stand behind Leo. His hands crept around Leo, one at his waist, the other just below his throat. It made it very hard to concentrate on anything, let alone both the cooking and the proposition.

"Why?"

He felt Riario shrug.

"I need something to do. I need some income. And it would be a reason to spend more time with Vanessa."

Leo chewed at his bottom lip, considering these reasons. A hobby, or was Riario serious about this? Income – it would mean him being paid dividends all the time and if he was honest, Leo didn't pay much attention to the pub profits and how much he was truly entitled to. He trusted Vanessa not to screw him over and saw anything she paid into his account as a bonus, not a necessary source of revenue. That last was Riario's attempt at persuasion. Vanessa was his de facto counsellor, something Leo had insisted on. It would be hard to say no.

Leo leaned back into Riario, relishing the physical contact. Riario's grip tightened around him, a source of both comfort and arousal.

"I'll have to talk to Vanessa," Leo said at last. He leaned forward, switching off the gas.

"I understand," Riario said, releasing him and heading to the cupboard to fetch some plates. "I'm not looking to rock the boat."

Leo nodded, and concentrated on dishing up. He wasn't sure how Vanessa would feel about having Riario as her business partner, and he wasn't sure how he felt about giving up his share of the pub. It had been a spur of the moment thing but it had been something that gave him and Vanessa a bond of sorts, something in common other than their past sexual experience.

Another quote from _Alice in Wonderland_ came to mind; "I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then." Riario's situation had dramatically changed in the last few weeks, and as a result, Leo realised, Riario needed this. A way to feel useful, or connected, or both. 

If Vanessa was happy about it, then Leo would willingly hand over his share of the pub. If she wasn't, then he'd take the blame, make up some excuse as to why he wanted to keep the share for himself. He didn't want Riario to be angry with Vanessa, not when she was a stabilising influence in his life. They'd find another job or hobby for Riario to get involved in. It would be fine.

"Leo?"

He paused, realising that wasn't the first time Riario had spoken, and noting that he'd piled food onto Riario's plate.

"Sorry. Just trying to feed you up." He smiled and dished the remainder onto his own plate, looking for a way to change the subject.

*

"Will he be a silent partner?" Vanessa asked, sipping her cappuccino.

"I don't think so." Leo had a hard time imagining Riario being silent about anything.

"Couldn't be less involved than you," she returned with a sly smile. "Even if you are always messing about with my décor."

Leo wrinkled his nose at her and she laughed. Leo leaned forward, his expression serious once more.

"I think it would be good for him," he said.

Vanessa reached over and took his hand. "I think so too."

Leo squeezed at her delicate fingers. "I need him to be okay. I love him."

Her gaze softened. "I know."

"I feel I'm the only one who does."

Vanessa stared at him, and used her free hand to take solace in her coffee cup. "He's not easy to love," she said at last. "But he's changed. He's not pushing us away so much. He's…I can't quite explain it. But I'm not frightened of him. I like him. I want to get to know him better. Sell to him. It will be good for all of us."

Leo felt a warmth pool in his chest and he gave a broad smile.

*

Nico took Riario's new job in his stride, once he'd been reassured that nothing would really change. Vanessa had been giving Riario a quick tour but once Nico had arrived she'd halted the induction to make some drinks, and Nico had soon satisfied himself that Riario was not evil incarnate and therefore not about to close down his favourite drinking den, stop serving his favourite beer, or re-name the pub.

The name was apparently some sort of inside joke for the friends and was meant in homage to Vanessa's heritage; Riario didn't care either way. Any changes he made would be solely for the benefit of the business and with permission from Vanessa, the majority owner.

While a few early customers sipped coffee and ate toast, Nico stirred absently at his cappuccino. "Speaking of names," he said. "There's something I've always wanted to ask you. Why do you call Leo _Leonardo_?"

Riario resisted the urge to say "Because it's his name." Professionally, Leonardo used his full name, but those close to him always called him Leo. Riario had started out calling him Leonardo and, for various reasons, still did, even if he was always now "Leo" in his head.

At first it had been an attempt to keep some distance from him. To mock him and his ridiculous name. ("Girolamo," Leo had mused one evening at a cocktail party Riario had been unable to avoid attending. "Our parents have quite the taste in outdated European names." That the ridiculousness of his name was one more thing he had in common with the artist was something not to be countenanced at that point.)

However, over time, calling him Leonardo, when none of the artist's other friends or lovers did, became an act of affection, something that set him apart.

Artist, too, was a term of endearment, breathed like a devotional. _My darling artist_. "Leo," from Riario's lips was reserved for very special occasions, when he desperately needed Leo's full attention, when he wanted Leo to recognise the import of what he was saying.

This was too complicated, too personal, to explain to Nico. Riario shrugged. "Habit," he said, and, in an attempt to be slightly more honest, "I like the way the syllables roll off my tongue." It was true. "Leo" could be sharp, but "Leonardo" was lyrical, as deep and enticing as the man himself.

Nico accepted this without comment. "What about you? You're mostly Riario."

He gave a soft huff of laughter. "I was named after one of my ancestors. Infamous, rather than famous, I gather. Girolamo. It's a hell of a name to bear." Still, he had discovered that it sounded better from Leo's lips than anyone else's. He took a sip of coffee.

"Not so easy to shorten, like Lucrezia," Nico commented.

Riario nodded, fairly certain Nico wasn't aiming to hurt him by mentioning his cousin. Lucy did have an easier time of it. Even if the name brought to mind Lucrezia Borgia, any negative associations were usually overcome by the image of a beautiful, powerful, woman. Girolamo? Not even negative associations for the most part. It was an oddity, lost and abandoned along with names like Hubert and Cecil.

"What did they call you at school?"

That was a sore subject to this day. Even the best paid education did not spare you the taunts of your peers. "Lame-o," he admitted, with distaste. "Giro and Girocheque. Geero. Gino." He shrugged. "Gee was the least offensive. Reduced to an initial." He hastily added, mindful of Leo's occasional usage, "I don't mind friends using that one. I merely prefer Riario. It's not uncommon for men to use their surnames; was once the norm, not that many decades ago." Especially amongst titled men, but he was in no mood to draw attention to the title that was almost as outdated as his given name.

Nico nodded with enthusiasm, hitting upon a literary example. "Mr Darcy. Can’t blame him, either. I mean, Fitzwilliam. That's almost as bad as Girolamo."

Riario gave a wry smile. Nico took another sip of coffee while Vanessa came to sit with them, having finished wiping down a few tables while her drink cooled.

"Riario," Nico mused. The syllables were stretched out, tested. "Leonardo. Rionardo?" A grin spread across his face. "No, I've got it. Leario!"

Riario blinked. "You make us sound like some tawdry tabloid couple.

Vanessa giggled and Nico snorted. Riaro frowned at their amusement.

"You are a tabloid couple!" Nico said. "Famous artist and society gentleman in scandalous love affair. You haven't made the Sunday supplement magazines yet, but it wouldn't surprise me if you did."

Riario stared at him in horror.

"It's not as if your father doesn’t know and hasn’t already disowned you," Nico said, trying to be helpful.

"I'm a private person. I don't want the paparazzi involved in my life!"

Vanessa made soothing noises. "I'm sure it won't come to that. But I could see a photo or two taken at society functions being published. I mean," she said, "you do make a cute couple."

Riario ignored this with all the dignity he could muster and changed the subject.

*

That night, the dark and blessed silence was broken when Leo asked, "When did you make me your emergency contact?"

Next to him, head half-buried in the pillows, Riario stifled a sigh. Leo always seemed to wait until they'd turned the lights out before broaching the big conversations.

"When I moved in with you. My father was going to disown me. I wanted you to be the most important person in the world, the one person I'd most want or need if there was an incident. Everyone I worked with knew about you, so why not make it official, in some capacity."

He had known it would further anger his father if he heard of it, but in truth that had been part of the attraction.

Leo was silent a moment, but no doubt the wheels were spinning in his busy brain. It wasn't long before he said, "You didn't change it when you moved out."

"To be honest I didn't think about it." There'd been other things to worry about, and he'd have got to it eventually, but if Leo thought it was a sign of affection he was wrong. Riario didn't want to lie.

"Oh." There was a world of emotion bottled up in that single world, so much so it must have barely made it past his lips. After a long pause, Leo asked, "Who would you have changed it to?"

"I have no idea." He had no-one else.

Leo rolled onto his side, studying Riario's face in the dim light. A truck rumbled past the window, sending the beams of its headlights over them. Riario watched the play of light over the ceiling, the way it threw the planes of Leo's face into sharp relief. No doubt his artist would have captured the moment in his indefatigable memory and later committed it to paper or canvas. Riario could only appreciate it, catalogue it.

"You'll always have me. If you want." He was doing the mind-reading thing again. Sometimes it sent a supernatural chill through Riario's blood, but at other times, like now, it gave him a thrill of a different sort, speaking to their closeness, that Leo could anticipate his thought processes. Leo's own mind was somewhat of a corkscrew and Riario could not always follow his train of thought when he was speaking aloud, let alone when he was in one of his trancelike states of wonderment and creativity.

"I came," Leo went on. "I was there. At the hospital."

"I know."

"You turned me away."

They hadn’t talked about this yet and he'd known they would have to. Still, Riario wasn't as prepared as he'd like to be. "I did."

"Why?" Leo placed one hand on Riario's shoulder. He wasn't sure if the gesture was meant to comfort him, to be reassuring, or to keep him in place and answer the question.

"Shame. Guilt. " Riario gave a ragged exhale that matched the tremulous words. "I didn't want you to see me like that. Vulnerable. A failure even at killing myself." Leo wanted to protest, he knew, but this was important and thankfully there came no interruption. "I didn't want to see you upset. Blaming yourself."

Leo could stay silent no longer. "It was my fault. Partly, at least?"

"It wasn't just about you."

"I wish you'd come to me after you lost your job. Talked to me. Yelled at me, even. I wanted to help. I left messages."

The reasons for avoiding Leo beforehand were much the same as afterwards, except for the anger towards Leo that Riario had still been harbouring. He hadn't been angry afterwards, at least not with Leo, only with himself. Angry at his own weakness, torn between fury at having given in to the suicidal impulse, and rage that he'd so spectacularly failed. That Leo still wanted him had given him hope, even while he felt unworthy, even while he tried to recall the reasons they'd broken up.

"I wanted you out of my life," Riario said. Because he'd risked everything for Leo, and lost, and he thought there was no coming back from that. Maybe that was why he hadn't dared to see Leo again, lest he be overwhelmed by emotion. Riario had convinced himself that Leo didn't deserve a second chance while he himself hadn't deserved a first, but such feelings of rage and inadequacy always dissipated when he was in Leo's presence. "And then I wanted out of it myself. And now…now I think my life is better with you in it. I should have trusted you as a friend, even after we broke up." Just as he'd helped Vanessa, Leo would have helped Riario if only he hadn't been so stubborn as to refuse the repeated attempts at reaching out.

"Maybe we shouldn't have broken up." There was the merest hint of reproach in Leo's voice.

"Maybe."

Leo moved his hand, changing the subject slightly. "Are we back together then?"

"It would seem so." Leo might want a more enthusiastic confirmation but it was all Riario could bring himself to say aloud.

"I want to be more than your emergency contact. I was reading up on having power of attorney. So if something happened," and Leo paused, swallowed, "even if we weren't together, maybe it should be someone other than your father who should have the final say."

Someone to make legal, financial, and, what Leo was specifically referring to, medical decisions. Riario considered it for a moment. "Would you respect my wishes? Even if there are circumstances in which I would prefer death?" He wasn't sure he could ever trust Leo to let him die. There were no lengths Leo would not go to in order to save him.

Leo's face crumpled. "I always think there's hope," he said, voice strained. "I will always want to protect you. But you're right. I'd have to do what you wanted. I suppose we need to think about this some more."

Riario gazed into Leo's eyes and saw his own longing reflected there. To have someone to trust, or to be trusted with such a responsibility, was enticing.

"I have no qualms about putting my life in your hands," he reassured Leo. Only his death, and that was a conversation for another time.

This sparked a sidewards thought from Leo. "I wanted to give you my blood," he said urgently, fingertips caressing Riario's chest. "They said they didn't need it but I was very insistent."

Riario gave a soft laugh. "I can imagine."

"They tested me." Probably the only way to shut him up, Riario thought. "They said I wasn't your type." Leo's fingers stilled. "Not the same blood type. I wanted so badly to save you. I wanted my blood to run in your veins."

Riario sighed. He lifted one hand to stroke Leo's cheek. "Sssh."

"It hurt," Leo persisted. "That to have me inside of you would kill you."

Riario put his hand over Leo's, dragging the nimble fingers further down his chest. "You are so very literal, sometimes, for all your imagination. I think we have proven many times that our bodies are compatible, if not in blood, then in other ways."

Leo dipped his head to press gentle kisses to Riario's lower ribs. "It wasn't enough. You left me."

"I'm here now." It probably hadn't been long enough, but Riario was done waiting. He wanted Leo, wanted the full physicality of their relationship to resume. There was no denying it. He was home, and, while there were still things they had to work at, and work through, they were back together. _Leario_ , as Nico had insisted. He hoped Leo would take the hint.

Leo's tongue flicked out and he began to paint a trail down Riario's torso. Riario pressed his head back into the pillows, hips beginning to buck in anticipation. "I don't want to lose you again. I don't want to rush things." Leo tormented him in-between the words, his fingers and tongue working in contrast to the almost despairing statement, "I don't want to hurt you ever again."

"Leo, let me say this just once," Riario said through gritted teeth. "I love you and I want you. Shut up, and for the love of God, fuck me."

Finally persuaded, Leo obliged with enthusiasm.


	4. Chapter 4

It was his second day as part owner of the pub and Riario sat at the bar, going through the accounts and other documentation related to the pub. Leo was balanced on a stepladder, changing some light bulbs, apparently reluctant to give up all hold over the pub. Vanessa was putting away clean glasses while Zo, for some reason, was also present, and after putting a new bottle of sherry into the optic, was nervously jiggling each hung bottle as if to make sure they were secure.

"It would be good for business," Zo said. There was an empty shop two doors down and Zo had it on good authority that an application had been put in to open a kebab shop, but that the local council wasn't keen on the idea.

"Wouldn't it be competition?" Riario asked.

"No. This place stops serving food at ten," Zo explained, "but drinks until later. People get the munchies on their way home, after you've closed. So people would stay here later and get food on their way past before walking up to the taxi rank near the _Rose & Crown_."

The _Rose & Crown_ was their nearest rival, though aimed at a slightly different clientele. "He's right," Vanessa said. "People will sometimes move on from here to the _Rose_ for a last drink or two so they're closer to the taxis. But the lure of kebabs might keep people in the area longer. I don't think the council will go for it though."

Riario returned his attention to the ledgers and turned a page. Zo chewed at his lip. Riario pretended not to notice.

"Did you get to fungible assets yet?" Zo asked, with the bright tone of a showman who needed to pull off some misdirection before the crowd spotted the dove was in his pocket. "Funny word, fungible. I used to think it meant, like, mushrooms and stuff. Fungi. Fungible."

Riario gave him a piercing stare and Zo faltered momentarily before he folded his arms and his face became a mask of insolence.

"I'm well aware of what fungible means," Riario said, his tone deliberately soft. "I have had, as they say, An Education."

Zo gave a snort which said he agreed and that it was another reason to hate Riario.

The question was, what was Zo hiding? Riario returned his attention to the page and saw the reason immediately. He waited for Vanessa to bring another load of glasses from the kitchen before he raised the issue.

"Zoroaster Enterprises." Riario sat back, feigning puzzlement. "That's quite the coincidence."

Zo hesitated, clearly torn between hoping the ploy was genuine (or that Riario was going to pretend it was) and confessing all. Vanessa gestured with a pint glass.

"It's fine. That's Zo's small business."

"He set it up for tax purposes," Leo agreed, climbing down to the floor and moving to switch the lights on to test the new bulbs.

Of course he did. Riario frowned. "What does Zoroaster Enterprises do, exactly?"

Zo swallowed, and regained some of his bluster. "A bit of this. Bit of that. Moving things around. Import and export. Storage."

Riario was beginning to enjoy himself. "And what do you move, import, export, or store for us, exactly?"

"Weeelllll…." Zo held out both hands, look at me, honest as the day is long. "This and that."

Leo flicked the lights on and off a few times, satisfied with the results. "A couple of crates of spirits a year. Legally imported, just about. As I said, mostly it's just he needs a business address."

"Are we laundering your assets?" Riario asked bluntly.

Zo shook his head. "No! It's not like that. Not really. For fuck's sake! I knew this was going to be a problem!"

"What was?" Riario asked, knowing damn well it was him.

Vanessa's hand closed on Zo's elbow but he was in no mood to be quieted.

"You! Everything was fine when Leo ran the place!"

That had been the wrong thing to say, judging from the indigant look on Vanessa's face. She released Zo and crossed her arms. "I own and run this pub. Leo has never run the pub. If Leo ran the pub we'd be out of beer within a week because he'd forget to order more, and he'd be so busy playing around making the food look pretty that he'd never serve it!" She glanced over at Leo and gave an apologetic shrug. He nodded, accepting the truth of her statements.

Zo scratched at his head, angry with himself as well as Riario. "I know. I just…this was our place. Why does he have to be here?"

"Because he needs a job," Leo said. "What's so wrong about that?"

Riario was expecting to be called untrustworthy, a liar, a snake in the grass. He was not expecting the accusation Zo hit upon.

"He had me arrested!" Zo howled.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone took this in.

The problem was, it was true. In the early days, when Leo was a thorn in his side, but before they'd first had sex, Riario had already been fascinated by Leo, and furious at himself for his fascination. Irritated with Leo's very existence, Riario had poked around at the artist's life, looking for illicit activities. Leo's credit history was spotty at best, and Riario gathered that there were occasional joints smoked, but there was nothing terrible enough, or with evidence enough, to provide him with leverage.

Zo was another matter entirely. The man was a laundry list of petty crimes and unproven allegations. Leo had taken Zo as his guest to a party one evening – Zo scrubbed up surprisingly well, even Riario had to admit – and insisted on introducing him to Riario. Zo had made a cutting remark about Riario's parentage to which Riario had responded with something equally barbed about glass houses. The dislike between the two men had been as instantaneous as the attraction between Riario and Leo.

So, partly out of petty revenge, partly to hurt Leo, and partly out of boredom, Riario had made a few calls and shortly afterwards Zo had been arrested for receiving stolen goods. Leo's father provided a lawyer, no doubt after much begging from Leo, and eventually Zo got off with a caution, to Riario's disappointment.

There had been no retaliation from Zo, no mention of the deed from Leo, and until now Riario wasn't even aware that Zo knew he'd been behind the arrest. However he clearly had, and had been brooding over it ever since.

"Girolamo?" Leo asked.

Rather than outright confess, Riario tried to brush the misstep off. "It isn't as if he served jail time." Which was true enough.

The acknowledgement reignited Zo's fury and he leapt forward ready to punch Riario. Riario stayed where he was, for he knew how and when it was best to accept a beating. However Leo dived between them, grabbing at Zo. There was fury in Zo's eyes as he strained against Leo's grasp, his shirt bunched up in Leo's fist. "You bastard!"

"Indeed," Riario said softly. "As is Leo, and as you are."

"You know what I mean!" Zo was in no mood for Riario's logic. "You're a…a slimy son of a bitch!"

As insults went it was unimaginative and lacked any sting. Nonetheless, Riario added fuel to the fire when he deliberately lowered his gaze and said, "Then perhaps it would be better if I'd died."

Zo's mouth fell open, trapped into a guilty corner. Leo released Zo, shoving him away roughly, and moved to put one hand on Riario's shoulder.

Vanessa was not so easily quelled. "That's enough! Both of you!" She gave Zo a fierce look that nearly made him wilt. "Whatever Riario did to you was in the past. Things are different now." Zo nodded, an apology on his lips but Vanessa turned her back on him, focussing on Riario now.

"I know you need this. You can't play around doing 'this and that' like Zo. But as I said, I am the overall owner and manager. You can't start making sweeping changes without talking to me first. And don't play the suicide card just to wind Zo up. Look at what you're doing to Leo."

Riario risked a look at Leo, saw that the artist's soulful puppy dog eyes were filled with pain.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" Leo asked in hushed tones, and maybe he meant the pub, or maybe he meant Riario being in his life without making him choose between him and Zo, or maybe he thought Riario was still suicidal. Riario's guilt immediately outweighed any he'd managed to make Zo feel. He exchanged a quick glance with Zo. There was a non-verbal agreement made. Truce.

"Sorry," Zo said. "I know it's your pub, Vanessa. And partly yours now," he added to Riario, making an effort to be friendly though it clearly pained him. "Let bygones be bygones, eh?"

Vanessa nodded like a queen dismissing a courtier and then looked to Riario.

"It was not personal," Riario told Zo, sidestepping an apology. "And it will not happen again."

Zo folded his arms with a brusque nod, taking what solace he could get.

"We will make this work," Riario said, placing his hand over Leo's, which still rested on his shoulder as if Leo feared he'd die or disappear if he released his hold. "Vanessa, I assure you it is not my intention to make sweeping changes."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I won't even rearrange the artwork," Riario said, giving Leo a smile along with the gentle dig. "However I do want to be involved. I want to know the business and perhaps I have some expertise that will prove beneficial."

"I'm glad you want to take an interest," she told Riario. "I will always want to have your input and hear your ideas." 

Zo scoffed, which earned him another glare from Vanessa, and raised Riario's hackles.

"You say the council are disagreeable to the notion of the kebab shop," Riario said, determined to prove his worth. "Do you have a list of those making the decision?"

"I can get one," Zo said. "Why?"

"He has contacts everywhere," Leo said with pride, eager to sing Riario's praises. His fingers squeezed Riario's shoulder. "Maybe you can tip the balance in our favour?"

"I will do my best."

Leo finally let go of him, though he pressed a kiss to Riario's forehead. Riario froze momentarily, and hoped against hope Leo hadn't noticed. It was not the affection, only the public display of it, that bothered him.

"That sounds wonderful," Vanessa said brightly. "I'll just finish up here and then I'll make some tea."

"I'll make the tea," Leo offered, anxious to help smooth things over and certain a warm beverage would help.

Riario gave Vanessa a genuine smile and she beamed, going back to putting away the glasses. Zo moved some of the bottles on the shelves and dusted beneath them, which surprised Riario, but it seemed Zo had hidden depths.

If he were still working for his father, Riario would have further investigated Zoroaster Enterprises. He didn't doubt there were multiple grounds for concern; tax evasion, maybe fraud, and a number of other grey areas that meant a nudge to the right people would result in Zo's arrest.

However he wasn't working for his father. He was part of Leo's world now, this pub, Leo's friends. Zo was practically Leo's family, and that meant Riario ought, if anything, to be protecting rather than persecuting Zo. Riario suppressed a sigh. It was a sacrifice he supposed he could make.

*

Leo came home with a bag of art supplies and a bag of groceries. He knew he'd probably forgotten half a dozen things, but there was milk, and bread, and okay, not the dishwasher tablets, but he'd remembered the fabric conditioner this time. He waltzed into the kitchen and stopped.

Riario was seated at the table. There was a half-full glass of brandy next to a carefully laid out towel. On the towel was a bowl of water, a wad of tissues, the first aid kit, and a pair of scissors. A discarded sterile wipe from the first aid kit sat next to those. Riario had a pair of tweezers in one hand, and was staring at his arm.

"What are you doing?" Leo put the bags down as slowly as he could.

"What does it look like?"

Leo edged forward. "I don't think you're supposed to take your own stitches out."

"And I have no desire to have any further involvement with any medical professionals." Riario gave Leo a challenging stare.

Leo rubbed at his face. "For fuck's sake!" He didn't say the first few things that came to mind, biting back any comment on how stupid or inappropriate this was. "How much of that brandy have you had?"

Riario shrugged. "Not as much as I'd have liked; I need my hand steady. It was more for afterwards."

Leo shook his head, and then tucked his hair back behind his ears. "Is there any talking you out of this?"

"No."

"Fine." Leo moved to the sink and began to wash his hands. "Let me. I have more experience of sewing than you do. It's not my favourite medium, but I'm pretty adept at most delicate operations. You've seen me repair jewellery, and the occasional electrical item."

Riario laughed. "I've seen you disassemble a few electrical items."

Leo ignored the jibe. He took the seat next to Riario, wiping his hands dry on one of the tissues. "You don't have to do everything alone," he said and held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation, Riario handed over the tweezers. He gestured with one finger for Leo to wait, and took a long swig of brandy before placing his arm back on the table.

"Did you sterilize these?" Leo asked, taking up the scissors in his other hand.

"Yes. And I cleaned around the stitches."

Leo took a deep breath. He used the tweezers to lift the knot of the first stitch. It shouldn't hurt, if the wound really was healed, but he was still nervous. With the scissors he snipped the thread below the knot. "I don't know how you thought you were going to manage this one-handed," he scolded. He tugged on the tweezers and pulled the thread until it came free of Riario's skin. There was no blood, thank God. He looked at Riario, who seemed calm.

"All right? You want to continue?"

Riario nodded.

"This is not how normal couples spend their time," Leo muttered, tackling the next stitch.

Riario reached for the brandy again. "Since when were we ever a normal couple?"

"Fair point." It didn't take long for Leo to remove the rest of the stitches. He used a second antiseptic wipe to clean the skin once more.

Riario studied the results. The bruising had almost gone, but, while the wound looked cleaner without the sutures, it was still highly visible. "It's not very pretty," he said. It occurred to Leo that was the reason he'd kept it bandaged until now, unnecessarily covering the unsightly stitches; it was an ugly reminder of pain and weakness. Riario sought refuge in the last of the brandy and was more bitter than distraught when he said, "Still, I have only myself to blame."

"Give it chance to heal," Leo said. He recalled an article about using vitamin E to improve the appearance of scars, and made a mental note to look for some cream or lotion next time he was in a pharmacy. He took Riario's hand, squeezing his fingers. "It doesn't matter to me."

"Perhaps it matters to me," Riario said.

Leo released him and began to tidy the supplies away. There were things he could easily fix, there were things he could find ways to repair in time, but this? This was something he had no idea how to handle. Leo wondered if this was one of the things he'd done wrong before. Perhaps he wasn't supposed to try and fix Riario. Maybe Riario had to do that for himself. Not alone, because that was true that he didn't have to do everything for himself, and he wanted Riario to accept that. But Leo had to accept that other people moved at their own pace, whether that was in regard to relationships or to healing. He couldn't just fuck away Riario's issues, but he maybe he could kiss away the pain for a time, and hold his hand while time did the rest.

So long as Riario gave them the opportunity, Leo was sure they could face any adversity.

*

A few days later Zo leaned his elbows on the bar, peering at the kitchen door, looking for Vanessa. He grimaced when Riario approached him, bar towel in one hand. It was, to say the least, incongruous. Part owning the bar was one thing, but Zo was stunned to see Riario actually working there.

"Where's Vanessa?" It came out harsher than he'd intended, almost like an accusation, but Zo had never been good at hiding his feelings. They had an unspoken agreement to play nice, for Leo's sake, but he and Riario were a long way from being friends.

"Amateur dramatics."

Zo nodded, reminded of what he'd been told several times by Vanessa herself. Leo had been roped into painting the sets, probably what he was doing at this moment. Zo was a little surprised Vanessa was trying acting, but then she did have a creative flair. Posing for Leo, singing karaoke sometimes, creating cocktails. Her new boyfriend, Julian, was also an influence, he who was the stage director as well as taking on a lead role in the production.

Riario wiped the already clean bar surface, making Zo remove himself from the bar and stand up straight. "Your usual?" Riario managed to make the question simultaneously professional and insulting.

Zo opened his mouth to agree. An idea occurred to him and a mischievous grin spread over his face. "Nah," he said, thinking about Vanessa's bartending skills and wondering how Riario's measured up. He gave a leer. "I'd like a Slippery Nipple."

Riario didn't even blink. "I'm sure you would," he said, and there was hint of something sensual in his tone. Toying with Zo just as he was attempting to mess with Riario.

Zo watched with interest as Riario gathered up the ingredients. He'd chosen the cocktail mostly for the name, but there was a certain skill in making a layered drink and Zo was curious as to how well Riario could pull it off. There were also several recipe variants and he wondered which would be chosen.

Riario began with a conical shot glass, adding Sambuca to about the half way point. He picked up the Bailey's Irish Cream and poured it slowly down the side of the glass, forgoing the upside down spoon method that Zo was more familiar with. His technique was good, Zo had to admit. The creamier liquid floated on the surface, a distinct separate layer. Riario slid the finished project over.

"Cheers," Zo said, and drank it in one go, because while this wasn't a favourite drink, it was bad form to waste alcohol. Besides, he'd be risking humiliation in front of Riario if he didn't drink the cocktail he'd ordered. He licked at the inside of his lips, and around his teeth, savouring the remnants of the sweet, creamy liquid.

Riario had moved away to return the bottles to their respective positions on the shelf. Now he returned with a pint of Zo's usual beer, placing it down with a satisfied flourish.

"You a mind reader now?" Zo asked. He had been intending to order a pint, but still felt the need to say, "Maybe I didn't want a beer."

Riario lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "It's on the house," he said, adding, "Don't expect that to become a habit."

Zo took a cautious sip of the beer. It was incredibly unlikely that Riario would try and poison him, and yet the thought had crossed his mind and he was having to stamp it down with all the rationality he could muster. "That was pretty good," he acknowledged. "The cocktail."

Riario accepted the praise with a slight incline of his head, unnecessarily wiping the bar top again. "Did you imagine that I would not attempt to become proficient in whatever endeavour I put my mind to?"

He'd not thought about it one way or the other to be honest. Zo was still somewhat convinced that he was hallucinating bartending Riario. Feared enforcer, educated businessman, erudite society gentleman, smarmy asshole; these were the personas Zo was aware of. Leo's boyfriend, that was another, one that had never sat well with him. Working class Riario was even more difficult to get his head around.

"You're enjoying the job?" Zo asked, brow furrowed. Couldn't Riario find employment somewhere else? Somewhere more suitable, like a shooting range, or at least a butcher's shop. That he could just about accept.

Corkscrews, his mind supplied helpfully. Knives for cutting lemons. Flammable liquids. Darts in the nearby dartboard. Glass bottles everywhere. The bar was full of potential weaponry. Maybe it wasn't so unusual a place for Riario to feel comfortable.

"Enjoy is rather a strong term," Riario replied, leaving Zo to draw his own conclusions. He didn't hate it even if he didn't love it, Zo guessed. He probably liked it better when Vanessa was there to do most of the work and he could play supervisor to the other staff. Hell, everything was better when Vanessa was around, with her broad smile and beautiful laugh. She could brighten up your day a treat.

She was supposed to do that for Riario, wasn't she? Leo had mentioned it yesterday during one of his vague rambling stories that had been interrupted when he'd seen a bolt of cloth on a market stall that he just had to have. Before Leo decided to haggle over the brightly patterned material, he'd said that Vanessa was the closest to a therapist he'd been able to get Riario to talk to, not trusting counsellors on the whole. Zo agreed with Riario, which was disturbing in itself.

Zo had initially been irritated that not only was Riario back with Leo, but was now also at the pub even when Leo wasn't. Couldn't get away from him. On reflection though, Zo had to concede that it was probably for the best that Riario had a job that he didn't hate, that he felt he had purpose, and that he had Vanessa keeping an eye on him. It had damn near killed Leo to almost lose Riario. Zo didn't want to go through that again. Leo, for whatever reason, adored Riario. And, so the others thought, Riario loved Leo back, though he rarely showed it openly.

"He says you don't like him," Leo had said once, after several beers at a rival bar, because sometimes it was nice to drink elsewhere, just Zo and Leo enjoying each other's company. Even then the subject of Riario had reared its head, though for once it was Zo's fault. He'd made a snide comment about Riario's real reasons for moving in with Leo the previous week. The whole family were spies and snakes, Lucrezia and Girolamo alike, but Leo would keep getting mixed up with them.

"I don't trust him," Zo had replied honestly. It was true. It was also true, not that he would ever admit to it, that he was a touch jealous. He and Leo were close, and maybe, just maybe, it might have been something else. But Leo had never seemed to want to take things further and so Zo had convinced himself it was just a fantasy and it was best that it had never been voiced.

"I care about him. I'm in love with him."

Zo felt a stab of pain, hearing an apology in Leo's tone, one that was there for his benefit. Jealous or not, wary of Riario or not, he didn't want Leo to be hurt. "I know."

Leo had taken a gulp of beer, sloshing a little over the rim of his glass. Wiping his chin and then the table with his sleeve, Leo said, "It's more difficult for him to say it. His father…"

For all the faults Leonardo's father had, he had never berated his son for his flexible sexuality. He might wish Leo were a little more discreet, but that applied as much to female company as male, whereas Riario's father clung to notions of proprietary that labelled gay relationships as a sin. That elicited some measure of sympathy from Zo. If it wasn't a ploy, then it must have cost Riario dearly to move in with Leo, to openly admit to his attraction for another man.

That memory made Zo pause. He watched Riario pull another pint for a cheerful man wearing a flat cap. Zo had called Riario a lot of names in the past, none more so than after his suicide attempt. He'd called him selfish and meant it.

The next day Nico had stopped by his flat and told him about a relative who'd killed themselves. Nico had grieved, and at first had thought them selfish, until he'd realised the circumstances and had come to accept that they'd had their reasons.

"Riario must have had his reasons too," Nico said, and left. He'd been friendly and chatty again when he next saw Zo, as if that conversation had never happened, but Zo recalled every word, and swore never to call a suicide attempt selfish again.

He'd assumed it was mostly the loss of his job that had driven Riario over the edge, though he hadn't thought deeply about it. But the loss of his relationship with Leo had to have played a part, and maybe his father's disapproval had contributed to the break up in the first place. Riario's father had disowned him twice over, once for the relationship and then by taking away his job. Zo had been in far worse situations, but he guessed Riario hadn't been. Zo was an optimist, and he had friends. Whereas Riario was a realist at best, a pessimist at worst, and he had no close ties. Leo's friends were the closest Riario had, and once he'd walked out on Leo, he hadn't even had those acquaintances by association.

Zo decided he should stay away from cocktails if they were going to start making him empathise with Riario. He took a long swallow of beer and shook his head as if to clear it.

Later, when Zo was most of the way through his beer, and had sent Nico two texts begging him to come and join him at the pub, Riario wandered back over.

"Any more cocktails you'd like to order?"

Zo shook his head fervently. "I'm good." He tapped at his phone, as if it might provoke a response from Nico. What the hell. "Are you? Good? I mean, you're back with Leo."

Riario's eyes narrowed, clearly expecting criticism. "Yes."

"You make him happy, most of the time," Zo acknowledged. "Just make him happy and I won't say another word about you two."

Riario regarded him coolly and then inclined his head. "I shall do my best."  
He moved off to serve two young women. Zo watched him be charming and efficient, one of the women flirting as she paid for their drinks. It seemed that bar tending, Leo loving, Riario was here to stay. 

Zo would get used to it.

*

It had been a pleasant morning and with the lunch rush over, Riario headed home. He stopped just inside the door and threw his keys into the bowl that Leo had made for that very purpose. Leftover clay from one of his projects, repurposed into a beautiful abstract swirl of muted colours. It was a reminder that this was home, one of the many personal touches in a house filled with happy memories.

His buoyant mood ended the moment he stepped into the lounge. Leo got to his feet, hands outstretched in a placating manner but Riario couldn't look away from Lucy. She was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes wide and lips quivering.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded, glaring at her but refusing to address her directly.

"I came to see you," Lucy said, swallowing reflexively. "To see how you are."

Leo stepped forward but Riario had already turned on his heel, heading for the front door. He grabbed his keys and left, slamming the door. With no clear thought in his head he found himself back at the pub.

He made his way to the kitchen and unloaded the clean glassware from the dishwasher before re-loading it, needing his hands to be occupied. When it was full and running again, he pushed back his sleeves and filled the stainless steel sink with hot water. He began to wash the glasses that still hadn't fitted in the dishwasher. He soaped a pint glass, rinsing it off in water that had become scalding hot. He let out a curse, putting the glass down on the draining board and looking at his skin, flushed red. The scar at his wrist was throbbing.

"I thought you went home."

Riario didn't turn to face Vanessa immediately. He picked up a towel and dabbed with care at his wet skin. "I did. I came back." He glanced over his shoulder at her.

Vanessa nodded to the sink. "We're in no hurry for extra glasses, but if you really want to wash up by hand, there are gloves in the cupboard you know. No need to scald yourself."

"I just needed something to do." He turned to face her. "When I got home, Lucy was there."

Vanessa's eyebrows rose. "Your cousin?"

He nodded, turned to meet her gaze, tugging his sleeves back down. "My cousin whom Leonardo slept with."

She moved to fill the kettle. "We need tea."

When the kettle began to boil, she said, "He slept with her long before he was with you."

"I am aware." It still hurt though, feelings of jealousy and rage burning in his veins. He and Lucy had history of their own, and she despised him. He'd tried to stay out of her life as much as possible. That she'd not only met Leo first, but bedded him first, was painful to accept.

"He says he didn't know she was your cousin. Not for ages."

It was likely true. Leo could be incredibly dense about things that held no interest for him, and unless he was researching potential patrons, the artist cared little for the lives of the so-called great and good. That Lucy, using her mother's maiden name, was actually the daughter of the man who was brother to Riario's own father, had escaped him.

They'd argued fiercely about it during one of their quarrels. How could Leo be so ignorant? How dare he have slept with her at all! Well excuse you, this was months before we got together! Should Leo run a background check on every person he was going to sleep with?

"Maybe you should," had been Riario's answer and it was ridiculous and Leo had laughed despite his anger, and that had dampened Riario's rage, and then there had been kissing and declarations of love, and that was how their fights always used to end, in bed.

"I haven't slept with her since I broke it off with her, I swear it," Leo had said, running his fingers through Riario's hair, smoothing down the dark locks which had become mussed up during their enthusiastic lovemaking. "In fact I haven't slept with anyone else since I first told I loved you." And Riario believed him.

Vanessa stirred the teapot, the sound of the spoon against the china bringing Riario back to the present moment.

"I don’t believe he's sleeping with her," he admitted. "But seeing her there, with him." He had no words to describe the maelstrom of emotion it had aroused in him.

Vanessa poured the tea into mugs, because clearly this was no time for delicate teacups. She pushed one towards him, and added milk to her own mug, leaving the bottle for him to use if he wanted.

"She's beautiful," Riario said. "I don't blame him for being attracted to her. She's manipulative too. If she wanted him, I'm not surprised he succumbed ."

Vanessa took a sip of tea. "He never loved her," she said with certainty that surprised Riario. "I've known Leo long enough to tell the difference between lust and love. He dated her for a while and maybe he thought he loved her, but I never saw it. I can't speak for her. It might have been real for her. I found her difficult to read. Manipulative, yes, I agree; Zo said at the time that if she weren’t so rich he'd think her a gold-digger latching onto Leo's rising artistic star."

Riario gained a newfound respect for Zo, though the man was naturally suspicious because he himself so frequently had ulterior motives.

"It was always different with you," Vanessa went on. "You made him work for your affection. You're so…reserved."

He caught the hesitation as she sought for an inoffensive euphemism. "Uptight?"

She smiled. "If you prefer. But he put the effort in, at least in the beginning. He wanted you so badly."

"Perhaps I was just a challenge." He drummed his fingers idly on the work surface.

"That was part of the attraction," she agreed. "But it was, is, more than that. You can't still doubt that he loves you?"

"He let Lucy into our home." Our home, my home, not hers, she didn't belong. Riario clutched at his mug, grateful it wasn't fine china that would likely shatter under his grip.

Vanessa's phone rang. She pulled if from her pocket. "It's Leo," she said, not answering it.

"I turned my phone off," Riario said, imagining dozens of panicked text messages and voice mails stacking up.

The phone stopped. Two seconds later it began ringing again. "He's probably worried about you," she said.

He sighed. "Fine. Answer it, let him know I'm not standing on a bridge or something."

Vanessa answered the call, listening to Leo for maybe twenty seconds before she could get a word in. "He's here. With me. It's fine. We're drinking tea." It was a while before she was allowed to speak again. "I understand. I'll tell him. All right. Yes, Leo. Yes. Go and work on your painting." She hung up.

"Well?"

She slid the phone into her pocket. "He's very sorry and he wants you to know he's not sleeping with her and she's gone. You can go home whenever you want to and he'll apologise in person." She gave a short laugh. "You can probably guilt trip him for a few days over this."

The idea didn't appeal as much as it once would have. "I wonder if my father sent her," he said, curious now the initial rage had dissipated. And if so, why couldn't he come himself? Why her, of all people?

"I don't know. Are you sure she didn't visit you of her own accord?" Vanessa placed her mug in the sink to soak in the hot water. "She is your cousin. Maybe she wanted to see you. You did almost die."

Riario chewed at his lip a moment. "Perhaps I overreacted somewhat."

"Perhaps," she agreed, though he thought she meant, "Absolutely." She slid one arm around his shoulders. "Go and talk to him. You said you needed him to listen and understand you, not just fuck your troubles away."

"I don't believe I ever put it so indelicately," he said, but with the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Go home," she said. "Work things out."

"Therapist's orders?"

"I'm not your therapist," she reminded him, giving him a squeeze before releasing him. "I'm your friend."

He supposed she was.

*

Leo was pacing when Riario got home, a dry paintbrush clutched in one hand. He was wearing a clay-stained shirt only half-buttoned, and his hair, almost to his shoulders now, was in disarray. He turned on Riario, but any anger was overwhelmed by his relief. Riario didn't have the heart to harbour any further rage of his own. Leo had been punished enough, fearing for his safety after he'd walked out so abruptly.

"I'm sorry," Leo said and Riario moved forward and held him tightly. "I know you hate her –"

"I don't hate her, she hates me," Riario murmured in Leo's ear. "What I hate is that she had you first. I hate that my fucked up family has any place in our lives."

Leo kissed him, soft and consoling. "She doesn't hate you. She wanted to tell you that herself. She wants to build bridges."

Riario let Leo kiss his cheek and jaw and throat, losing himself in the moment before answering. "My father didn't send her?"

"No. She said he'd be furious with her if he knew she was here. That her father would be too. I'm sorry, beloved. They want to wash their hands of you, except for Lucy. Please don't push her away. She might be the only blood family you have left. I know it's weird, because I was with her first, but my whole life is weird. You know that. And I'll never sleep wither her again, I promise. I've been faithful, Girolamo, and I always will be. I only want you." Leo tugged at Riario's long sleeved t-shirt, exposing more skin so that his tongue could trace Riario's collarbone. Riario made a small noise of pleasure, moving one hand to tangle it in Leo's hair.

"I'll talk to her," Riario muttered. "But in my own time. Somewhere else. Not here, in our home. Not with you present." It was a decent compromise, he felt.

"All right." Leo returned to kissing his lips and Riario relaxed fully, enjoying this closeness. It was progress, he allowed later, that while this fight did finish with them fucking, they had at least talked first.


	5. Chapter 5

The tearoom was Renaissance inspired, high ceilinged, with black and white floor tiles. Two decent reproduction candelabra chandeliers with electric light bulbs made to resemble candles graced the ceiling. Both sides of the room housed booths, separated by stained glass panels atop decorative oak posts. Plush red two seater sofas nestled alongside of rectangular walnut tables, and small framed prints graced the deep green walls.

The rest of the space was taken up by round tables surrounded by winged armchairs upholstered in cream and gold brocade, and the serving counter, which boasted a vast array of cake. The overall effect was marred only by the very modern cash register.

Lucy was already seated at one of the booths near the back of the tearoom, far from the counter or any other patrons – there were five other customers, one elderly couple seated near the window and three people Riario pegged as tourists sharing a booth near the front of the room. Lucy raised one hand half-heartedly in greeting, face pale, blue eyes filled with trepidation. Riario saw she'd already ordered, for a tray sat in front of her.

Riario slid into the booth opposite Lucy. She lowered her gaze briefly, fingers tightening around the handle of the china teacup. She'd ordered tea for two, certain he'd show up, though he'd almost walked straight past the door and headed home. He was glad he hadn't when she said softly, "Thank you for coming." With some effort she released her grip on the cup and reached for the teapot.

Riario watched her pour a second cup for him. "Leonardo wanted me to talk to you. I have nothing to say. But if you do, speak your piece."

She nodded, clutching her cup again, meeting his gaze at last. Doe-eyed, always beautiful, always fashionable. She could have modelled in Paris or Milan, if she'd a mind, or so he'd often thought. There was something so sensual, so European, so delicate about her.

"I heard what happened," she began.

"I'm sure everyone in the family knows of my shame by now." Riario added a small amount of milk from the white jug on the tray. "My latest transgression that is. I am already shamed, am I not?"

A blush of colour lit up her cheeks. "It doesn't matter to me that you fell in love with a man."

"Only that he's one you yourself have slept with?" It was a cruel remark, given how things had ended between Leo and Lucy, but he wasn't feeling generous.

She moistened her lips. They were painted a violent red that matched the leather gloves neatly arranged next to the Gucci handbag on the table alongside her. "We cannot change the past."

"Only bear undying resentment about it."

Fire sparked in her blue eyes. She could play at being demure, but she and Riario were cousins, and there was a wrath that ran in both their veins. "That's what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell you that I forgive you." She swallowed hard, knuckles white, taking a deep breath before she could continue. "Amelia…it wasn't your fault. I think that…I think I just needed someone to blame."

"Someone other than my father?"

Lucy nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears as she relived that terrible night. An accident, everyone said. Tragic, that Amelia fell from the balcony. Riario's father was distraught, unable to explain exactly how it had happened, though he was the only one up there with her at the time.

On the ground floor, Riario had heard the sickening thud of the body hit the ground. He turned to look behind and knew immediately that the girl was dead, her neck broken, eyes staring sightlessly at him. Lucy came in from the garden before he'd recovered from the initial shock himself and he'd tried, how he'd tried to stop her seeing that terrible sight. Had attempted to shield her with his own body, tried to walk her back outside until the body could be covered, the emergency services called.

He'd failed of course.

Lucy's screams had haunted him ever since. He'd watched helplessly as she fell to her knees at the side of the corpse, keening and wailing. He'd caught his father's eye as the old man leaned on the balcony, saw, beneath the pretence of horror, what he could only assume was a hint of satisfaction.

Their family was screwed up, and murder was not unknown in their past, but this? Riario had never imagined his father would go this far, that brotherly rivalry could lead to the execution of a child who posed no threat to his father.

"It was an accident," his father had told him later, but not with his voice taut with emotion, not with tears in his eyes as was the case when he'd spoken with the police. It was as much an order as a statement. _It was an accident and any word to the contrary will cost your dearly, son or no._

Riario hadn't killed Amelia, despite Lucy blaming him ever afterwards. Truth be told, if he'd had any inkling of the danger the girl was in, he would have warned her, told Lucy to take her sister far away. 

He'd often wondered if it was his silence that had made Lucy hate him. Yet he'd had little choice but to support his father. His other options ended only in more grief, more deaths, maybe Lucy's, maybe even his own. No-one would have believed him if he'd laid the blame at his father's feet. Too much money was involved, too many palms were greased, for his Lordship to face arrest, let alone prosecution.

His other theory was it was simply that he had been there when she'd seen the body, that the two events were inextricably linked in her mind. When she saw him, she saw the death again. It wasn't fair, but it was at least understandable.

She blamed him, he realised now, because she could not, dared not, extricate herself from their fathers' grasp without great cost and terrible danger. She could not make him pay. But she could instead blame Riario and scream at him and push him away, and Riario had become the whipping boy for his father's crime.

"I understand," he said, and he meant it.

Lucy gave a short nod. "I know what your father is capable of. I know what you are capable of. But I also know you are capable of other things. Better things." She placed one hand on his. "You love Leo. He loves you. There is a - a - purity to that."

He gave a harsh laugh. "There is nothing pure about us, I assure you."

She was not put off by his coarseness. "Something else then. For you to give and receive such affection proves something to me. That you are not the monster I once thought you. There isn't just darkness in you. You are not your father."

He lowered his gaze, unable to bear her intense, heartfelt, words.

"I didn't feel joy when I heard you tried to kill yourself. That's when I realised I didn't hate you any longer." She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand, and the gesture reminded him of Leo. Had Leo once done the same to her, and she now copied the motion, or vice versa? It was comforting yet, contradictorily, disconcerting.

"I wanted to visit you," she went on, "but I wasn't sure if I'd be allowed to. Or if you'd want to see me."

He shook his head.

"I know. You didn't even want to talk to Leo. He told me, while we were waiting for you to come home." She released him, sat back against the padded seat. "I just wanted you to know that I forgive you. That if you were in any way burdened by my hatred, you don't have to be any longer."

Riario drank his tea straight down, no delicate sipping involved. He placed the cup back into the saucer, the china pieces clinking against each other, a small, normal sound to punctuate this intense conversation.

"You want me to accept your forgiveness so your own conscience is clear," he said at last, meeting her gaze once more. If he'd died, she'd have been left with some guilt of her own. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Her lips parted in surprise, then she clamped them shut. A nod. "Yes, I suppose so."

"I assure you, you were the last thing on my mind when I made my decision." He let out a deep breath. "Amelia is always at the back of my mind. I can only imagine how she occupies your thoughts."

It was years since he'd spoken her name aloud. Lucy had slapped him at the funeral, and as other mourners had dragged her away she'd screamed at him, the words sitting ever after on his shoulders as if he'd been cursed. _Don't you say her name! Never speak her name!_

Lucy picked up the teapot and refilled both their cups with a shaking hand. He let her compose herself. They politely took turns using the milk jug, Riario stirring the tea until it became caramel coloured.

"Do you?" she asked, choking out the words. "Accept my forgiveness?"

Not so long ago he would have refused, hardened by the world, needing to be cold hearted, believing he deserved only to be hated and, therefore, embracing her anger. Leo had opened up his heart, little by little, and since he'd opened up his veins he found less solace in being despised. He found he preferred Leo's professions of love and Vanessa's gentle manner.

"I do."

She gave a single sob, looking hurriedly down at the table, but she gathered herself quickly. She brushed at her eyes with one knuckle, forcing a smile onto her face. "Thank you."

"There's one more thing. Something you will not like me asking." He thought he'd earned the right to pose the question.

"Ask anyway." She took a sip of tea, steeling herself.

"If I had died, what then? Would you have," he chose his words carefully, "comforted Leonardo?"

She caught his meaning and regarded him with a frown. After a few moments she nodded. "Comfort, yes, as much as I could offer. It would have been unseemly not to attend your funeral, and cruel not to give what solace I could to Leo. But did I ever imagine seducing him once more? No."

Riario gave a wry smile.

"You don't believe me? It's true," she said. "After how things ended with us, after he caught me trying to steal from him, after that fight we had?"

Leonardo was a passionate man in all senses of the word; it was part of his reputation, his charm. Yet until the night Leo had confronted Lucy in public, Riario had never thought of him as possessing such anger. It was a violent outburst that stayed verbal but wounded Lucy deeply, and, by all accounts, Leo too. As he told it, he'd spent the night sitting in a nearby graveyard, overshadowed by the cathedral behind him, ignoring the chill of the frost. Morosely smoking a cigarette he'd begged from someone, he'd watched the sleet pass through the beams from the streetlights, the very picture of misery.

If Riario had been present to witness the breakup, he might have gloated over Leo's grief, but he had a sneaking suspicion he'd have ended up comforting the tortured artist instead. They might have begun their relationship on very different terms. The past was the past, however, and, on reflection, taking Leo into his arms mere hours after his cousin had broken Leo's heart was not something that would have improved their relationship.

"He had the portrait he painted of me sent to my home," Lucy said, regret in every syllable. "In the note accompanying it, he said he had been going to burn it, but he thought I might need the reminder of what I'd done. That every time I looked on the woman in the picture, I should be sorry I was not her, the woman he'd loved, but an imposter. A liar." Lucy sighed, regret evident in the slump of her shoulders. Riario had always supposed she was merely using Leo, but he now revised his opinion. She'd cared for Leo deeply. Of course she'd lied to and manipulated him, so Riario's sympathy was still limited on that front. 

The worst of it was, if she'd just told Leo she needed them, Leo would likely have handed over the blueprints, because he was generous that way. Instead, he'd caught her trying to steal them, and was furious that their relationship was built on deceit, a way for her get close to him and his work.

The irony of it all was that the device in question had never been patented because Leo couldn't find a way to ensure the thing didn't spontaneously burst into flames, and the project was soon abandoned. The theft would have benefited no-one and Lucrezia's failed attempt did nothing but ruin her relationship with Leo.

"He could never take me back. Not really. We could pretend, for a while, I suppose. Make love, paste on fake smiles, wrap ourselves up in the fantasy that things hadn’t changed." She swallowed. "If you were dead it would have been easier, a way for him to subsume his grief for a time. Ultimately though," and she shrugged, "we're through. Nothing can change that. Believe me when I say this and believe it. He loves you."

Riario toyed with his spoon, the light catching on the shiny surface. "People keep telling me that, as if I need to be convinced."

"Do you need to be? I only tell you because I think you wonder about it. I may not have been on your mind when you," she sought her memory for the phrase he'd used, spoke it so he could practically hear the quotation marks around the words, " _made your decision_ , but I'm willing to bet he was. Never doubt him. I betrayed him, but Leo could never have betrayed me, and he will never betray you."

Riario saw only honesty in her face. He nodded, gave a weak smile, and reached for his wallet.

"Let me pay," she said, putting out one hand to still his movements. "If you can ever bear to meet with me again, you may pay next time."

He stood. "Thank you, then, cousin."

"I truly am glad you came."

He couldn't bring himself to agree, but he did manage to nod. "Perhaps I'll call you." To his amazement as he left, he meant it.

*

Leo came home enthusiastic, fingers stained with ink, thrilled from giving a guest lecture to a class of art students – Nico had invited himself to the seminar, gleefully heckling until Leo made him join in with a demonstration. Riario listened to Leo's happy chatter as he made coffee for them both, and only when they were both settled on the sofa with hot drinks and biscuits did he say, "I met with Lucy today."

Leo coughed, choked down a stray biscuit crumb with a gulp of coffee. "How did that go?"

He could see the strain on Leo's face. "It went well," he said honestly. "She wanted forgiveness and I was willing to give it. I was able to apologise and she was eager to accept."

Leo nodded. "This is about Amelia?"

How much had Lucy ever told him? Riario had never discussed it with Leo, not directly. "Yes. Let's not talk about it further." It had been a long enough day. In the future it might be possible to talk about what had happened and not relive it so vividly. It might be possible for him and Lucy to talk about Amelia's life rather than her death. It would take a little time for that, though the healing was underway now.

Leo didn't press the matter, though Riario's mind was still on Lucy.

"If all it takes is a near-death experience to have everyone fall over themselves to love and forgive you," he mused, "maybe I should have sliced my wrist open sooner."

Leo grabbed at him with one hand, fingers tightening around Riario's elbow. "Don't say that!" There was such rage and pain in his eyes that Riario felt a tinge of fear alongside the guilt that he'd upset his beloved so badly.

"I was joking." Mostly.

"Don't."

"Vanessa lets me make jokes," Riario protested. They were going to have a fight because he couldn't help but keep needling Leo and dammit, Leo wasn't going to back down.

"Then joke about it with her. Not with me. It hurts too much."

Leo fell silent, brooding, and Riario waited, but there was no further outburst, no grabbing, no kissing, nothing. The spark which had threatened to turn into a full blown fiery row dwindled and died out.

"All right," Riario said. He refused to apologise. He had every right to make jokes at his own expense, to talk about – or not – his suicide attempt in whatever manner he chose. For Leo's sake, he would refrain from being flippant about it in front of him, but he wouldn't be sorry about how he felt or how he wanted to express his feelings.

The non-apology was sufficient for Leo nodded and took another gulp of coffee, the tension visibly leaving his body. "Lucy," he said. "I won't ever see her unless you're with me."

Riario put one hand on his knee, squeezed it in reassurance before he turned his attention back to his drink. "No. You can see her if you want to. I trust you. You want us all to be family. That can't happen if we don't all trust one another."

Leo put down his mug and took Riario's face in both hands. "I do want that. I'm trying to forgive her too and the only reason I let her in the first time was because she was upset on your behalf. I want you not to be alone."

He sealed this declaration with a kiss, soft, and tasting of coffee and sweetness, before releasing Riario and then reaching for his mug once more.

"I'm not alone. I have you."

"That wasn't enough before," Leo said. "If we have a fight," and he gave a harsh laugh, " _when_ we have a fight, I don't want you to be alone."

Riario picked up a biscuit, sliding his thumbnail along it to break it into two perfect halves. "Things are different now," he said. "I have strict instructions to call Vanessa any time I feel I am in crisis."

Leo tipped his head, as if doubting this was likely. Riario was compelled to defend himself.

"I went to the pub when Lucy was here, didn't I?" Not directly to Vanessa, not consciously, but her presence was part of the reason the pub meant safety and why he'd gone there. It was a place his father had never set foot in. It was something he partially owned. It had become a haven for him without him realising it, just as Leo, Nico, Zo, and Vanessa had made it a second home before it had ever belonged to any of them.

"Where does that leave me?" Leo asked, teasing him now, and Riario was relieved because banter, even – especially – the sharp barbs they could exchange, reminded him of their early days. All that dancing around the attraction Riario couldn't let himself acknowledge, all the simmering sexual tension that Leo deliberately kept turning up to high whenever they were in the same room.

"With Zo, who'll gladly agree that I'm a terrible person," Riario said. "Or possibly Nico, who never takes sides, but is a shrewd and careful observer and a good listener."

Leo nipped at his own thumb, trying to dislodge a hangnail. "That seems fair." He gave a sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"I know I promised we'd talk instead of fighting until we fuck," Leo said. "But I miss it. Not the fighting. Well, yes, the fighting, sort of."

Of course Leo felt the same way about the banter! Riario fixed him with a stern glare. "You mean when I tell you that you're an arrogant mediocre artist with the morals of an alleycat?"

Leo nodded eagerly. He moved to sit astride Riario's knees, snatching the empty mug away and placing it to one side. "Or I call you a simpering altar boy with the self-righteous Puritanism of a Witchfinder General?"

Riario moistened his lips, heart quickening. "If I were a Witchfinder I would see you hang, heretic." He unbuttoned his shirt, delighted to see Leo watch with unabashed arousal.

When Leo spoke again his voice was thick with desire. "If I had magic I would use it to have you at my mercy, my Lord."

Riario grabbed at Leo's shoulders and they kissed with passion and fury. They wrestled, Leo bearing down until he was straddling Riario, hands against his shoulders.

"Surrender," he said.

"Make me," Riario returned.

Leo flicked his tongue against one taut nipple and Riario bit back a cry of pleasure. With a grin, Leo moved his hands so they rested on Riario's slim waist – almost feminine, he sometimes said, in fascination – his thumbs pressing up towards the taut navel.

"I can show you pleasures you have never dreamed of," Leo said, echoing the words he'd said before, so long ago. Then, Riario had closed his eyes, fighting his desires, wanting Leo while hating that he did.

Now, Riario gazed at him through half-lidded eyes and taunted, "Prove it."

Leo claimed his mouth again, and tried to make good on his promise. That Riario had been an eager and adept student who had little left to learn was offset by the familiarity they now shared and the expertise Riario could offer Leo in return.

*

Later, Riario, half-naked and sprawled on the sofa, said, "I'd have enjoyed that even more if the remote wasn't digging into my shoulder." He reached beneath a cushion, and tossed the offending control panel onto the floor.

"Why didn't you say so?" Leo asked, pulling his trousers back on, face flushed, pupils still dilated.

"I tried, but you kept sticking things in my mouth."

Leo laughed and tossed Riario's shirt to him. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a pack of furniture wipes. Riario stood and watched in amazement as Leo cleaned the sofa.

"What looking glass world is this?" Riario asked, pulling his shirt back on.

"Hush, or I'll leave all the cleaning to you," Leo retorted, kneeling down to scrub at the base of the sofa. "I was going to mop the floors next."

Riario laughed and crouched down, moving Leo's hair to one side so he could press a kiss to the nape of Leo's neck.

"If you keep that up we'll be back on the sofa," Leo warned. Riario kissed him once more, and took the cups out to the kitchen. There was a certain satisfaction in the quiet domesticity of shared chores, an acknowledgment of their partnership that went beyond the bedroom. Now, if he could just get Leo to remember to buy dishwasher tablets…


	6. Chapter 6

In the kitchen, Riario's phone rang, and Leo heard him answer it, though he couldn't hear the conversation. He was mixing up paint to work on the zodiac as Riario had requested, leaning against a paint-splattered wooden stepladder as he pondered which of the figures to work on first. It was late, but night-time seemed most appropriate to paint stars and astrological figures.

Riario's expression was grim when he came into the room. "Leonardo. Put the paint down."

Leo did as he was told, fearing bad news.

"Someone robbed the pub. We need to go down there," Riario said.

"Vanessa," Leo began.

"She's fine. The police are there. Come on."

*

The police were indeed there, three officers, one with a black notepad in hand. Zo had beaten them there, and was leaning against the bar, arms folded, face like thunder. Vanessa was perched on a bar stool, glass of water in one hand, nodding as the investigating officer ran back over his notes.

"Vanessa," Leo called, and she slid from the bar stool, beckoning the other officers to let them past. Leo dashed over and hugged her tightly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." She let go and motioned to the man with the notebook to get his attention and indicating Riario. "My business partner, the one you called."

"What happened?" Leo asked.

"There were two of them. They came in just before closing. One stayed by the door and the other came up to me and said he had a gun in his coat pocket. I don't know if he did, it could have been a knife, or just his fingers." She tucked her hand under her long beige cardigan, demonstrating. "He wanted me to open up the register, so I did. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Riario said, before Leo could make his own protest. "No money is worth your life."

She gave a weak smile. "They picked the worst time to rob us anyway. They probably got five hundred quid, six, tops."

"What about the security cameras?" Riario asked.

"Um, we only have the two, one at the door, one pointing at the till, and both guys were wearing hoods anyway."

"One pointing at the till?" Riario echoed in disbelief, then, "you distrust the employees more than the customers?"

Vanessa shook her head. "No, no, it was the set-up when I took over. I trust the staff."

Riario gave her a long, apprising look. "I suppose if it were an inside job they'd have picked a time when there was more cash on the premises." He glared at the security camera. "We'll upgrade security. And from now on, no-one closes up at night alone. And I'd prefer if you weren't ever alone on the premises even in the daytime."

Vanessa shrugged. "You're over-reacting."

"No he's not," Leo said.

"I'll be here whenever you need," Zo agreed.

Vanessa rolled her eyes at the men. "I've been running this pub for ages with hardly ever an incident! We have a bouncer on Fridays and weekends, and I've always been able to handle things before. But there were two of them –"

"Perhaps you can discuss this with your business partner later," the police officer said. "Mr….Riario?" He gave a frown, and Riario could practically hear the gears grinding as the man realised he probably ought to have used a title to address him. "Your father is….?"

"Yes, he is," Riario cut in, not wanting to hear about his father on top of the night's calamity. "And we're estranged," he added, the word sounding venomous. It was probably idle curiosity rather than the officer implying any family business being behind the attack. Riario was certain that had his father wanted to strike at the pub, they'd be standing in charred ruins, rather than getting a crime number to report to the insurance company.

Shortly afterwards the police were done taking statements, and what little CCTV evidence they had, and left the pub.

"I'm not sure I want to go home," Vanessa said, gulping down a brandy – Zo had poured them all shots the second the police had gone. "I'm fine, really, I'm just…I'd rather not be alone."

"Come home with us," Leo said, without hesitation. Zo looked to Riario and then to Leo, but Riario nodded and Vanessa agreed. She hugged Zo for coming to provide moral support and he left muttering dark things about what he'd have done to those assholes had he been there when the robbery occurred.

*

When they got home, Leo made tea and Vanessa clutched her mug in both hands. She looked up at the ceiling. "I wish you'd paint faces on the Gemini twins. I always think they look a bit freaky."

"I'm going to. I was about to start painting it when we got the call." He pointed to the palette and stepladder, clear evidence of his intention.

"I am sorry."

"Sssh, no. It's not your fault." Leo sat down next to her, slipping one arm around her shoulders.

Riario had taken an armchair, legs crossed at the ankles, a picture of relaxed elegance, though Leo was aware that he was upset, could see it in the strain in his eyes and a tightness around his mouth. He'd long ago trained himself to read Riario's moods – and then he'd forgotten to do so, because if he'd paid more attention they'd probably never have split up.

Rehashing the past wasn't going to help matters though and he forced his mind back to the present.

"Oh, crap, the spare room's full of those materials I ordered."

Riario sighed. "I'm not entirely certain there is a bed in that room," he said archly. "I don't believe I've ever seen it beneath your clutter."

"It's not clutter, it's stuff. Important things," Leo said with his usual vagueness. "I can try and shift them –"

Vanessa rubbed at her forehead. "Don't bother. I don't think I can sleep anyway. And the sofa's comfy, so long as I close my eyes and don't look at the freaky faceless twins."

Leo laughed. "I promise I'll paint them tomorrow." He gazed upwards and shook his head.

"What is it?" Riario asked, and Leo remembered that Riario could read him too.

"Nothing. It's just that sometimes, if it got late, and Zo was sleeping on the sofa, and Nico maybe on the floor or in the garden that one time, do you remember?" He looked at Vanessa, who laughed at the memory. "Well, we'd share the bed. Just sleeping, I mean. Fully clothed last time, I think."

"We were too drunk to get undressed even if I'd had anything to change into," she said.

"And then I moved in," Riario said and Leo caught a hint of wistfulness.

Vanessa nodded. "But there's still the sofa and the lawn, and you do have a spare bed somewhere. I have seen it, I know it exists! It's not a problem."

"But you've never stayed over since."

This conversation had taken an unexpected turn. Leo got up and paced the room, fingers dancing, as his mind worked. Surely that wasn't true. No, he had to concede that Riario was right. Since he'd moved in none of Leo's friends had stayed the night. It wasn't intentional. Was it?

Vanessa leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "It was a change," she said. "But we were adapting. Things would have settled down. They _will_ settle down. We were, you know, giving you two your space."

"Perhaps," Riario said, unconvinced. It was, Leo thought, at best a partial truth, if not merely a kind lie. "Perhaps I am not good company. I apologise."

Vanessa put down her mug and moved to kneel on the floor, her hands clasping Riario's knee. Leo had the sudden urge to sketch them, to call the resulting work The Supplicant, to catch the earnestness of Vanessa's gaze and the caution on Riario's face at this unforeseen development.

"You're much better company these days," she said and Riario gazed at her, pleasantly surprised. Not truly a supplicant, Leo decided; the only thing she was pleading for was that Riario let them love him. The title ought to reflect her compassion. The Devotee? No matter. He'd think of something better later.

Leo chewed at his lip. "We shouldn't wait for a crisis to bring us together or to our senses. Suicides and robberies. What happened to us? We used to hang out a lot more. We need to do that again."

"What do you suggest?" Riario asked, and Leo was gratified to see he had placed one hand over Vanessa's, an acceptance of her touch.

"A barbecue."

"You hate barbecues," Vanessa said, moving abruptly and, to Riario's astonishment, placing herself in his lap. "Tell him."

"I have heard the complaints from your own lips, my darling artist," Riario agreed, carefully lifting a strand of Vanessa's hair from his shoulder.

"That's how much I love you all. I'll cook dead flesh for you all, so long as I get to make some veggie kebabs and have salad and things." Leo nodded to himself, planning it out in his head. "We'll open some of that wine we put aside for a celebration, but if Zo's coming we'll probably need to buy beer."

*

Half an hour later, Riario went to bed, though it was a while before he slept. He stared at the ceiling, sorting through his emotions. Anger that someone had dared to do this sat alongside relief that Vanessa was fine, and happiness that he was more accepted as part of the group now. He felt a warmth of affection for Leo and his beloved's desire to comfort Vanessa and to draw the group closer, whatever it took.

The anger refused to diminish, marring the more positive feelings. Riario finally slept, but not before he'd made a plan of action.

He rose at dawn, dressing all in black, including his leather gloves and long coat, and headed out. His contacts weren't all of the variety that made it easy for him to convince a council member to vote in his favour. Some of them made Zo look like a choir boy. Riario himself was far more lethal than Zo, and, while he thought he'd left that life behind, there were some things that could not go unpunished.

*

Leo had dozed off in the armchair around four in the morning, and when he woke up, he winced at the crick in his neck. Vanessa, curled up on the sofa, stirred.

"I'll make coffee," Leo mumbled and staggered off to the kitchen. The doorbell rang a few minutes later and shortly afterwards Nico, one arm around Vanessa, came to join him.

"I got the message Zo sent me," Nico explained, accepting a mug of steaming coffee. "I had to come and make sure everyone was okay. I can't believe you stayed here," he added, nodding to Vanessa.

"Riario didn't mind. You should have gone to bed though, Leo," she said.

Leo shrugged. "I'll go and wake him, make sure he's not feeling lonely," he said and went upstairs. He returned looking puzzled.

"He's not there. He's taken his keys," he said, having scanned the bowl in the hallway on his way back downstairs.

"I hope he isn't upset with me," Vanessa said.

Leo shook his head." Don't be silly. He probably went for a jog or something."

Nico almost snorted coffee out of his nose. "I don't have your imagination," he laughed. "I cannot picture Riario jogging."

Vanessa giggled. "I can't either. Which would be weirder, Riario jogging in a suit, or Riario wearing a tracksuit?"

Leo shook his head but he too was smiling.

"I can't see him on a bike either," Nico said, grabbing another piece of toast. "I think he's more about walking. Striding with purpose."

"And driving," Vanessa said.

"And being driven." Nico gave a sage nod.

Leo shoved another two slices of bread into the toaster. "Come on. He's not that stuck-up. Although, I did once suggest we take the bus and he gave me this look of absolute horror. We took a taxi."

"Trains are probably fine," Vanessa said. "First class, mind."

"He uses the Tube sometimes," Nico said, speaking from actual, if limited experience.

"Horses," Leo said, loading the knife with butter and eyeing the toaster impatiently. "He likes horses." The toaster popped and he juggled the hot bread onto a plate and began smoothing butter over the toast. "His father owns a riding stables and Riario used to go riding a couple of times a month, more if he wasn't busy."

Nico sidled over and stole one of the fresh pieces of toast. Leo sighed and, taking a possessive bite out of the remaining slice, added more bread to the toaster.

"He doesn't ride now?" Nico asked.

Leo shook his head, saddened. Riario had been disowned by his father, the stables off-limits. "I suppose he must miss it." It occurred to Leo that Riario had talked of riding early in their relationship, but hadn't actually gone to a stable since moving in with him. He'd sacrificed it for their relationship and Leo hadn't ever realised it. He'd always had such affection in his voice as he talked about the horses, eyes alight with passion that made Leo love him even more. Riario was a connoisseur of horses, someone who loved the graceful creatures and the freedom they represented.

Nico pulled a face. "It's not like his father owns the only riding stables in England," he pointed out, which gave Leo an idea.

A phone call later that day gave Leo something else to think about.

*

Leo, paint splattered with cerulean blue from his work on the zodiac, came into the hallway when Riario returned home.

"Where have you been?"

Riario gave a lazy shrug. "I had business to attend to."

"Well I have some news," Leo said and Riario lifted an eyebrow. "One of the men who robbed the pub turned himself in."

Riario folded his arms. "That is good news."

"Yes. He was apparently keen to turn in his accomplice too. I wonder if that's because his partner beat the hell out of him." Leo gestured with the paintbrush.

Riario made a noncommittal noise and made for the living room, prevented from doing so by Leo taking a step in front of him.

"Did you beat up the robber?"

Riario lifted his chin but kept his expression neutral. "Do not ask questions you will not like the answers to."

Leo tossed the paintbrush aside and wagged his finger in Riario's direction. "I know you did this. Or at least had someone do it."

That drew Riario's ire. "I have never been afraid to get my hands dirty." He looked away, ran an apprising eye over the gilt-edged mirror above the small hall table. "We never talk about it because you don’t want to acknowledge the sort of man I truly am, and what I am capable of."

Leo tugged at Riario's sleeve. "I know you've done things in the past, things I might not approve of, but that you had reasons for. Not reasons I could always accept, and yes, that's why we don't talk about it. I know what you're capable of. I just thought those days were gone."

"So did I." He sounded mournful even to his own ears and Riario shook himself. "I had my reasons this time, too. Truth be told, I never took any pleasure in carrying out such business for my father. But I took satisfaction in this."

Leo nodded. "I'm glad you're being honest with me." He gave a wry smile. "I understand your reasons this time."

Riario blinked a few times. "You do?"

"You said once, woe betide anyone who hurt me," Leo said. "That goes for my family, too, doesn't it? I will never be angry at you for protecting us."

Riario was taken aback when Leo wrapped him in a bear hug.

"We're your family, and deep down you know it, even if you can't truly acknowledge it yet," Leo whispered. "You will never be alone again, and we will take care of you as you take care of us."

The wording brought to mind the Lord's Prayer, _forgive us our trespasses and those who trespass against us_. It was as fervently uttered as a prayer, as sacred a vow as any from Leo's lips. Riario had expected anger over his chosen course of action rather than it bringing them closer together. He had forgotten that Leo was no saint either, and that when it came to his friends – his found family – he was as protective as a wolf mother of her cubs.

Leo might not have been as brutal as Riario, but if he'd tracked down the perpetrator, he would have taken revenge of his own design, vengeance that would have hurt just as badly, one way or the other.

"Maybe I was just protecting my business assets," Riario said, trying to break the mood. Leo gave a throaty laugh.

"If that's what you need to believe." He kissed Riario's cheek. "Come on, I want you to see Capricorn."

Riario let himself be led to the living room. He got to see Capricorn for quite a while as he lay on the sofa, letting Leo show him all kinds of appreciation for taking the law into his own hands.

*

Next evening, Zo placed his elbows on the bar, affecting the weary air of one who'd been waiting ages for service. It wasn't long before Riario placed a beer in front of him.

"Doesn't look like my usual," Zo said, eyeing the pint with suspicion.

"It's one of the monthly specials, on the house," Riario said. "Mostly because it's not selling that well. If you want to be helpful, make appreciative comments about it where other customers can hear."

Zo swallowed a mouthful of the beer, licking his lips appreciatively. "Not bad." Riario gave him a look and Zo grinned. "I mean, delicious!"

Before Zo could make further conversation, Riario moved away to serve a male and female couple that Zo pegged as lawyers, followed by a slightly clueless young man who was trying to buy a round for several of his friends but was hampered in his efforts by not being clear on the details of the order. Vanessa waltzed past with two plates of ham, egg, and chips. Zo reached out hopefully to filch a chip but she lifted the plate higher with a firm, "No!"

Zo watched the customers for a while. One young woman was breaking up with her boyfriend, and he wasn't taking it well, though he was more upset than angry. An elderly man was enjoying a crossword puzzle, occasionally sipping from his glass and tapping his pen on the newspaper, deep in thought. Vanessa was making conversation with a regular, a woman who always wore a red coat; Zo had some idea her name was Maud or Maeve.

"Is the beer really so terrible?" Riario asked, gesturing to the half-finished drink.

Zo put one hand protectively around the glass, lest the free beer be taken from him. "I'm pacing myself. Waiting for Leo and Nico."

"Leonardo might be late."

"Nothing new there." Zo took another swallow of beer. "Funny thing," he said.

"Yes?"

Zo tipped his head. "That man who robbed the place, turning himself in. I hear he was pretty banged up, though he said he fell off a kerb."

Riario said nothing, though he stilled, every ounce of his attention on Zo.

"Black eye, four cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder, sprained knee," Zo said.

Riario's mouth twitched. "It must have been a bad fall."

"Sounds more like a beating to me." Zo rubbed at a patch of condensation with his thumb. "Word on the street is this pub is off limits. Worse will happen to anyone who so much as breathes the wrong way around here."

Riario gave a thin smile. "That's somewhat comforting."

"I get it. Investments need to be protected," Zo said, tired of dancing around the subject. Riario had taken care of things, and that was fine with Zo. But pretending to be innocent was taking it too far. Riario was no better or worse than any of them, his society status offset by his enforcer duties, and Zo would prefer it if he would admit it.

Riario nodded. "That's true. However that's not, I'd venture, the reason behind the unfortunate man's falling off a kerb." His gaze flicked over to Vanessa, who was cheerily collecting empty plates and glasses from one of the tables by the windows.

Zo stared at him. Vanessa came past, smiling, and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Are you saying –"

"I'm saying," Riario interrupted, "that if word on the street is that Vanessa is off limits, then the alleged beating has had the desired effect."

Zo swallowed. He mentally ran through the list of injuries again, and thought about how damn dangerous Riario really was. Now, however, he couldn't help but feel differently about those skills.

"Off-limits. That's what I hear," Zo said, and lifted his glass. "Cheers."

Riario nodded and moved away.

Well damn. Why'd Riario have to go and develop some sort of loyalty? Zo shook his head. He wasn't ready to fully trust the man, but he'd have to give up disliking Riario now, and it had been a favourite hobby.

*

"Continue straight on," the GPS instructed in her crisp voice. Leo veered left onto a B road instead. Riario gave him a sideward glance.

"If you're going to ignore the GPS lady, why do you ask her to direct you in the first place?"

Leo lifted one shoulder, unconcerned as the B road turned into something that was more dirt track than tarmac. "Sometimes I like the company. I argue with her."

"You can't win an argument with the GPS."

"Same as arguing with you, then," Leo returned with a grin. "And at least I can switch her off. Besides, one time she tried to send me directly into a new Tesco store that had sprung up where the road used to be."

Riario laughed. "I do tell you to keep the software updated. Leonardo, do you know where we're going? Because I think that's a field of cows up ahead."

Leo frowned. "I know what I'm doing."

Such words had often been followed by disaster of one kind or another and, in the aftermath, the promise, "I can fix this!" even when that seemed unlikely. The kitchen ceiling still needed repainting after one spectacular culinary experiment. Riario's connections had smoothed things over with the police response unit one evening after their neighbours understandably reported what they believed to be gunfire. Leo had damn near dislocated his shoulder in one memorable incident, and brushed it off with his assertion that he could use either hand so it was not a big deal.

Riario reached for the pocket road atlas he insisted they keep in the glove box. Technology was all well and good, but there was something to be said for a physical map that did not require electricity to function, and forced you to find your own way rather than blindly follow it almost into a body of water or a new supermarket.

"No, put that down," Leo said firmly. "Look, there's a turning here." He took the road which bent to the right and went straight on at a crossroads where, Riario was relieved to see, there was something resembling tarmac again, before they took the next left.

Riario saw the advertising hoarding, mounted just before the next signpost. "Riding stables?"

Leo nodded ruefully. "I wanted it to be a surprise." The surprise would have come soon regardless, for a minute later there was another sign with a large arrow pointing to the turnoff, and Leo swung the car into the gravel lined car park, reversing up and throwing on the handbrake. He turned off the engine and undid his seat-belt, twisting in his seat to look at Riario.

"Well?"

"It's definitely a surprise." Riario fell silent.

"I thought you might want to go riding. You haven't, for ages." Leo sought inspiration and said, "You know what they say, once you've learnt you never forget."

"That's bicycles." A thin smile touched his lips. "If you fall off your horse you are supposed to get back on."

Leo put one hand on Riario's knee. "We don't have to stay if you're not interested."

Riario swallowed. "It's not that. I'm just," he sought for the right word, "touched."

Leo squeezed at his knee and gave him an encouraging smile. "Come on. Let's go riding."

*

Leo proved to be a decent horseman. Riario initially suspected Leo was lying when he said he'd never ridden. Either the man was a born natural or he'd been secretly taking lessons in preparation for today. Of course Leo wasn't that great at keeping secrets (that he'd kept this outing quiet was a minor miracle), wanting to share his knowledge and his stories with everyone, and Riario couldn't imagine when Leo would have had the time to take lessons. Riding, then, was something else Leo was good at. Polymath barely began to cover it.

For his part, Riario pushed aside the conflicting emotions surrounding the chance to be on horseback once more. He had missed it, he missed his favourite horse, he missed the simple pleasure of riding that was so very different to driving, and, he found, he had missed the excuse to be out in the fresh air with nothing to do and nowhere to be.

He would probably ache tomorrow, muscles protesting at this unfamiliar exercise, but it would be worth it. For too long he'd avoided even thinking about horses, which he associated with his father's stables alone. He ought to stop letting his father ruin this for him, should think about scheduling regular sessions at this stable that wasn't too far to drive to. 

Riario let Leo drive them home, though he wouldn't allow him to turn on the GPS merely to ignore or argue with it. Leo didn't care. He could easily retrace his steps, and it was always simpler to journey back towards London, heavily signposted, than it was to find his way to somewhere more rural. The journey passed quickly, the setting sun turning the sky a glorious red.

Later he would take a long bath, but right now he wanted a warm drink, as did Leo, who busied himself in the kitchen.

With mugs of coffee in hand, he and Leo nestled up close on the sofa. Riario leaned his head back and smiled at the new details on the mural. "Thank you," he said, drowsy from the day's exertions. "That was very thoughtful."

"You enjoyed it?"

"Yes. You seemed to have fun."

Leo nodded. "More than I expected to." He too leaned back, gazing at the ceiling. "I'm trying to be thoughtful. Not just make everything about sex. I know you love riding and until I was talking to Nico the other week I hadn't even thought about how you gave it up for me."

Riario, eyes half-closed, stirred. "Not for you. Partly because of you, but if I was going to have a falling out with my father for any reason there would be sacrifices. You were just the first valid reason for me to take a stand."

Leo shuffled over to press his shoulder against Riario's.

"I don't regret it," Riario said, voice barely above a whisper. "Even when I was furious with you and I left. I never regretted standing up to my father. I never regretted us."

Leo gave a deep sigh. "I always thought you did. That, deep down, some part of you blamed me for what you lost."

"Money? I can manage. Prestige? I can do without it. My father's respect?" Riario paused for a moment. "I never had it to begin with, and I now think I could never earn it. What I have gained far outweighs any losses, my beloved artist."

Leo drained his mug and then closed his eyes. "I love you, Girolamo."

Riario made a noise of contentment. "I love you too, Leo."


	7. Chapter 7

It was another two weeks before the weather and everyone's timetables aligned to give them a beautiful Saturday afternoon for the planned barbecue. Recently promoted Genevieve was in charge of the pub, with instructions to call Vanessa if there were any problems with anything from the staff to the customers to the dishwasher.

Leo, hair held back in a half-ponytail, was at the grill, turning his kebabs with long handled tongs. Zo, on his fifth beer, was lazing on the grass, sunlight reflecting from his stylish sunglasses. Nico, at the picnic table, was piling salad and a sausage onto his burger in what was surely an ill-fated gastronomical experiment. Riario had claimed the bench, reclining in one corner, left arm draped along the back of the bench, right elbow on the curled metal arm at such an angle that he barely had to move his arm to sip at his wine. 

Vanessa, finishing a third sausage bun, licked at her fingers. "Very nice, Leo. Thank you."

"I'm still cooking mine," he groused. "In all the meat fat by the way."

"It'll have mostly burnt off," Zo demurred.

"Why didn't you do your veggie stuff first?" Nico asked around an ambitious mouthful.

"Because then it would get cold!"

Vanessa laughed as she picked up a bottle of beer from the cooler and deftly prised off the top with the bottle opener. "Not today. It's so hot." She was barefoot and had already discarded a thin jacket, leaving her in a pale blue vest top and loose knee length skirt. Her eyes lit up and she plunged her feet into the small fish pond, splashing Zo somewhat, and gave a sigh of relief.

"Vanessa, not in the pond," Leo protested in exasperation. "You'll scare the fish."

"And he's named them all," Riario added drily.

"Of course he did," Vanessa said, peering into the somewhat murky waters. "Let me guess. You named them after painters? Authors? Poets? Inventors?"

"My Little Ponies," Zo suggested. "Oscar winning directors."

"Nobel prize winners," Nico mumbled, losing a piece of lettuce from his sandwich.

"I hate you all," Leo said with a fake pout. He dished up his kebabs onto a plate, added some salad and potato wedges, and went to sit next to Riario.

Vanessa took a long swallow of beer. "Aren't you hot?" she said, eyes alighting on Riario in his black denim and long sleeved jersey top. "I know black is your thing and you think it makes you look dashing or something – and it does," she agreed, adding before anyone could react, "but seriously, in this heat? At least roll your sleeves up."

Riario stared into his wine as if the answer to all life's questions could be found in its crimson depths. "I would rather not," he said softly.

Leo shook his head frantically and Vanessa clapped her free hand to her mouth. She took a step forward, almost tripping on the edge of the pond in her haste. Zo, fearing a soaking from the pond or her beer or perhaps just being trodden on, scrambled to help her. She nodded a thank you to him, and headed over to the bench, placing the bottle carefully on the grass nearby.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think."

Riario shook his head, brushing it away, though he didn't meet her gaze.

"No, look," she said, fumbling with her skirt.

"Er, Vanessa," Leo began, putting his plate to one side, wondering what the hell was going on now.

"Oh, it's nothing you haven't seen before," she snorted. "I've modelled naked for you."

Zo choked on his beer.

"You know that, right? Leo has seen me naked other than the time we slept together," she went on, and Riario couldn't help but pay her attention now. "In fact that time I had on this really sweet nightgown…yes, Leo," she agreed, as he waved his hands frantically, "I'll shut up about that. Anyway, I was just showing him this."

Riario, looking at her face and not her proffered thigh, asked weakly, "What am I looking at, precisely?"

"Helps if you look in the right place." She used one finger to indicate a small mark on her inner thigh, three inches or so above her knee.

"Can I look?" Zo asked.

Vanessa shrugged and displayed her thigh for him too. Nico watched, silent, chewing rather more slowly now. "You've seen me in my bikini when we went to the beach. It's not my fault if you're so unobservant."

"It's tiny," Zo protested. "Barely visible." He stripped off his shirt.

"Are we all going to be naked now?" Leo asked. "Because that's fine with me, but sunscreen, people, I don't want a repeat performance of our post-beach expedition where we didn't even have any aftersun and we had to make do with all my yoghurts."

Nico chewed, swallowed, then smiled. "You missed a good day then, Riario."

That was when they were still enemies, or whatever Riario liked to call them. Before Leo and Riario were together the first time, let alone this second chance he felt so privileged to have. This barbecue was an effort to bring the two social circles of his life together, but now he thought of the beach. He'd just assumed they'd all go there again at some point in the future. He wondered if Riario would ever join them on the sand, and if he'd sit in his shirt sleeves if he did, out of place, too ashamed to bare his scar.

Zo was gesturing to his chest. "See, that's a scar."

"I think it's a mole," Nico said. "Maybe two moles."

"It's not a mole! I got this during a very exciting escapade." Zo grinned. "Which, involved me having to exit an establishment in a hurry. Out of a tiny and high up bathroom window. Into a dirty alley far below."

"Charming story," Riario said and Leo nudged him with one elbow because that note of condescension was exactly why Riario and Zo didn't get on.

Nico finished his food and picked up a wine glass, switching from beer in what was probably another unwise move. "I've got a scar, on my knee. From, er, saving a cat from a tree."

Everyone stared at him in disbelief. He hung his head. "Fine. I fell off my bike." Zo tittered and Nico added defensively, "I was six!"

"Go easy on the wine," Leo said. "Clearly you're already somewhat drunk to come up a story like that."

"I saved a cat from a tree once," Zo said. "I mean I tried. This woman I was seeing had this cat, and she was upset because the cat had been up there all day and wouldn't down for its evening meal. So I gallantly climbed up, right, and the damn thing swiped me in the face and climbed down by itself, prancing off into the house like royalty. Kind of saved my hide though, because just then the woman's husband came home on account of his business trip had got cancelled. I had to stay up in the tree for four hours before I could safely climb down and get away."

There was a ripple of polite laughter and as it died away, Vanessa shook her head. "Anyway, we've all got scars was my point."

"It's true," Leo agreed. "You've seen mine." He turned lustful eyes on Riario. "You damn near gave me one that night we spent in Harrogate." 

Riario lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Mine is rather visible and difficult to explain away. I don't think anyone will believe I got it falling off a bike or climbing up a tree."

Leo leaned over, resting his head against Riario's chest to offer what comfort he could. Riario slipped his free arm around Leo, holding him close, and to, Leo's delighted surprise, actually dipped his head to kiss Leo's hair. Public displays of affection were rare; perhaps their efforts were paying off, and Riario finally felt more comfortable around Leo's friends.

Vanessa looked distressed. "You're right," she said. "But here? You don't have to be ashamed in front of us."

Zo cleared his throat and Vanessa fixed him with a look that could turn a lesser man to stone. He toyed with the t-shirt he was still clutching and said, "It's true. Come on. You know a lot of our secrets, and we know some of yours, and hell, any friend of Leo's is mostly okay with me."

Leo felt warmth spread through him. That had to be the most positive thing Zo had ever said about Riario's presence in the group.

Riario stroked Leo's hair, gentle fingers brushing against his scalp that made Leo want to purr like a cat. He wanted to kiss Riario, but that would mean moving and he was so comfortable where he was, so warm and content, that he was reluctant to change position. Besides, a kiss on the lips might be too much yet. A hasty brush of closed lips against Leo's cheek was the most he'd ever gotten when Zo in particular was present.

A hush had fallen over the group, broken only the sound of the pump keeping the pond oxygenated, and a gentle breeze teasing the leaves of the bushes.

"I need more wine," Riario said at last, stretching out his right arm from the bench, glass in hand. He too seemed unwilling to move, and Nico, having taken possession of the vino, plucked the glass from Riario's hand in order to refill it. With both hands free, and to Leo's minor disappointment at Riario lifting his hand from his hair, Riario tugged first one, then the other sleeve up over his elbow. Leo put a little more effort into holding still and the movements didn't dislodge him from his favoured position.

Nico handed Riario his glass back without a word and Riario thanked him. Zo tossed his t-shirt aside and with a wink, darted forward to grab Vanessa and proceeded to throw her over his shoulder, running around the garden while she shrieked and beat at him with her fists.

"Time for a dunking," Zo whooped.

"Not the pond," Leo begged, with little hope of anyone paying him attention.

"Nico, help," Vanessa yelled, and Nico picked up the ketchup bottle and dashed in to save her, squirting red sauce in Zo's face.

"Your friends are all quite mad," Riario said, amused. "I suppose that's why they get on so well with you."

"Our friends."

Riario didn't contest the matter and Leo took that for another victory. He wanted to say that the scar would continue to heal and fade, he wanted to say it didn't matter to him, but he stayed silent, not wanting to return attention to the flaw. Instead, Leo grabbed at Riaro's left hand and pressed his knuckles to his lips, the scar pressed against Leo's body, unseen.

Grass stained, hair in disarray, variously covered in ketchup, and mud, and things that probably didn’t warrant scrutiny, the other three finally calmed down, picking up beer and wine and asking about dessert.

"There's cheesecake in the fridge," Leo said.

"I'll go and get it," Nico said, wandering off, apparently unaware he had what seemed to be a bit of pondweed sticking out of his hair.

Zo was seated on the grass once more, though Vanessa had sought out a deckchair from what Leo called the shed, though it was really more of a wooden lean-to that clung perilously to the fence. She sat back, sipping her wine, and gazing indulgently at the couple on the bench.

"What is it?" Leo asked.

She smiled. "I was just thinking how adorable you two are together."

Zo gave a snort and pretended to retch until she kicked him in one shoulder, and if Nico hadn't returned with the cake at that moment, chaos would once more have disturbed the tranquillity.

*

Things were going well. They were not apart for more than forty-eight hours at a time. They took short breaks in various cities, seeing sights that fascinated Leo, attending gallery openings, going to food and drink festivals with the vague excuse of Riario being "in the business".

This bliss was threatened when Leo got an invite to an event hosted by a friend of his father's, two days at a country house in Wales, rubbing elbows with the well to do.

"Come with me," Leo begged but Riario refused. "Please. I want everyone to see us together," Leo insisted. They'd been together months now with hardly an argument, though plenty of banter that ended in passionate lovemaking. He felt sure that they were stronger than ever, and he wanted to let the world know he loved Riario.

"Your father will be there."

Leo waved a dismissive hand. "He doesn't dislike you more than any of the other people I've dated."

"Lady Talbot will be there. She's a friend of my father's. I can't face her right now."

Leo tried some physical persuasion, clever fingers and charming tongue working their magic, but this time it was not to be.

"Next time," Riario said, and they both knew it was probably a lie, but Leo let it go, accepting that Riario had to work on their relationship at his own pace.

"I'll only be gone overnight," Leo said, randomly throwing things into a suitcase. Riario's cheek twitched as he restrained himself from going over and folding everything neatly. When Leo couldn't close the case he'd no doubt organise it more efficiently for himself, possibly inventing some new gadget for space-pressed travellers along the way.

Of course that was the time Vanessa had a mini crisis of her own to deal with.

"You need to throw me a pity party," she said when he showed up at work just before lunchtime. Her eyes were red-rimmed and Riario wondered who he might have to hurt this time.

"I don't know what that is," he said. Leo's friends seemed to have odd ideas about party themes.

"We broke up. I broke up with Julian. Or he broke up with me."

Riario sighed. "I'm sorry," he said with sincerity. "What happened?"

She shrugged. "I'm not even sure exactly. We had this huge fight," she said, which was an uncomfortable reminder of Riario's terrible argument with Leo. "It was mostly about his family. They don't want him being with me – a commoner, you said."

He began to protest that he hadn't meant it but she didn't let him get a word in.

"It's all right. They're more noble than your father, even. They have a point."

Riario shook his head. "If he lets you slip through his fingers over something so petty then he's a fool. If he doesn't come to his senses, then he never deserved you anyway."

She gave a half-laugh, half-sob. "I said something similar about you to Leo."

That was news to him. "I came to my senses. Eventually." He tipped his head. "Is there any chance you'll get back together?"

She picked up a cloth and polished the nearest beer tap. "I don't want to be part of a family who hates me. And I don’t want to prevent him from marrying someone more suitable. I think I love him," Vanessa said. "Or did. But I'm not sure if it was meant to last. Or if either of us can forgive the things we said."

Riario made a noise of disquiet. "You're the most forgiving person I know."

She gave a weak smile. "Well the pity party always helps. I'm not working tonight and I've arranged cover for you because we always have these at your house. Leo's place – your place - is the largest and it's got the big TV and the karaoke system."

Karaoke. Dear God. Riario wondered if he could get out of this but realised there was no chance of doing so. With Leo away the duties of hosting fell to him. What appeared to be a coach party showed up just then and they were kept busy for the next few hours, so he was left in the dark about what, if anything, he was supposed to do for the festivities. He tried a few times to get some details but Vanessa brushed him off. They'd done this plenty of times, all he had to do was be there.

At six'o'clock Zo, Nico, and Vanessa showed up at the house together, laden with edibles and drinks.

Riario let them get on with it. It seemed to involve a lot of eating, drinking, and singing. _I Will Survive_ , _You Think You're a Man_ , and other break up classics being sung by Vanessa, sometimes with back up by Zo and Nico.

"I should have brought Guitar Hero over," Nico said when Vanessa paused in belting out good riddance tunes to chew on a huge slice of pizza.

"No, it's Vanessa's break up party, she gets to choose what we do," Zo said, adding "Within reason". That Zo was the one to put limitations on potential activities made Riario concerned as to what other events took place following the currently ongoing ones. He had a brief vision of them vandalising the offender's car, making rude phone calls, or hacking into his social networks and planting embarrassing photos. Okay, that last one was something Riario would do (had ordered to be done to a couple of business rivals in fact) but still. These people might not be bad news in the way Riario's family were, but they were no angels.

"Ice cream," Vanessa ordered like she was Marie Antoinette and Riario watched as Nico fetched some tubs of Ben and Jerry's from the freezer.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Riario received a puzzled look and said, "Leo throws up if he eats ice cream after beer or whisky." Especially so much alcohol. And they were mixing like crazy. He'd stuck to beer, but they'd had wine, whisky, rum with cola, plain cola, and some sickly mixed drink that was a colour not found in nature.

Vanessa snorted. "I'm not going to throw up." She took a large mouthful of ice cream.

"Did you do this for Leonardo? When we broke up." Riario couldn't bring himself to use the more truthful, "When I left."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Zo stopped chewing mid-mouthful of popcorn.

"No," Vanessa said, but Riario knew from her tone that it was, if not a lie, not the whole truth. She faltered under his gaze, ferreting around for the bottle of rum, which had mysteriously become buried under Nico's discarded hooded top and a number of tortilla chip packets.

Zo swallowed. "We wanted to," he said, and Riario was glad for once that Zo would never shy from telling him even painful truths.

"Leo didn't want to," Nico said. "He never stop hoping you'd come back." He turned eager eyes on Riario, reflecting Leo's belief. Nico too, it seemed, had thought Riario wouldn't stay away.

He'd intended to, of course, but that seemed so very long ago now, a lifetime ago – a different life. Riario sought solace in his bottle of beer and felt a hand on his knee.

"That's why it hurt so much," Vanessa said softly, still not meeting his gaze, but offering her physical presence as comfort. "He never thought you'd lose you permanently, and when you almost died, it nearly broke him."

Riario took a swig of beer. "You'd have put him back together," he said, careful not to let his voice tremble.

"We'd have tried," Nico said. "But he would never have been the same."

Riario stared at the heavenly ceiling, resplendent in its fully realised glory. "I didn't do it to hurt him." It was, to his surprise, important that these people knew that, and believed it.

Vanessa squeezed his knee.

"We know," Nico said, quiet and calm.

Zo huffed a little. "You did though. But he's forgiven you." Riario might have imagined it, but it sounded like Zo finally forgave him also.

"I'm afraid I've rather ruined your party," Riario said, gathering himself together.

"No," Vanessa said. "It's a pity party. It's okay to be a bit sad. We take a moment to be miserable and then we move on. Anyway, I'm too angry right now to be sad. So it's okay for you to have a turn."

Nico found the remote and flipped through the TV channels until he found a dreadful monster movie. He turned down the sound so only the screams and roars were audible and he and Zo began improvising dialogue. Vanessa leaned against Riario's shoulder, giggling when Zo began to act out his lines, waving his arms dramatically.

The front door opened and everyone fell silent as if caught doing something untoward. A moment later came into the room and there was an explosion of sound and movement as Nico jumped to his feet, Zo cried, "Leo!" and Vanessa shrieked with delight, elbowing Riario as she tried to manoeuvre into a standing position.

"Hey," Leo called, beaming. "I see the party is in full swing."

"Yes, but you're here now, so it's really only just getting started," Zo said, prising off a bottle cap and handing him a beer.

Leo accepted the beer, a high five from Nico, and a number of hugs and drunken kisses from Vanessa before he managed to get to Riario. He sank down on the floor. "Hey," he said, brushing a kiss against Riario's cheek. "Having fun?"

"Tons." Leo would probably assume the bored tone was Riario's way of distancing himself from the frivolity despite himself. It wasn't. The truth was he had been having fun. He'd been feeling like he belonged. What hurt was how quickly he'd been ousted to the sidelines. These were Leo's friends, he told himself, of course they were glad when Leo arrived; why shouldn't they abandon him the moment Leo showed up? Riario had been doing his best but he was a poor substitute.

"What about your father's event?" Riario asked, refusing to meet Leo's gaze.

"When I got Zo's text I thought this was more important. I've never missed a pity party." Leo frowned. "Are you eating ice cream?" he asked, making Vanessa pause, guilt stricken, with the spoon resting against her lips.

"Maybe."

"After all the multitude _and_ mixture of alcohol I can see here? Do you think that's a good idea?"

She pouted. "You sound like Riario."

Leo glanced at Riario.

"I did warn her," he agreed. "She assures me that unlike you, she will not vomit."

"Hmm," Leo said.

"You are supposed to drink milk before going out drinking," Nico said. "And ice cream is milk. Probably. Mostly."

Vanessa took a defiant mouthful.

"Milk and sugar," Leo corrected. "And that's before, not after."

"I find warm food's best when you've had a few. God, I could go for a kebab," Zo said.

"You could always go for a kebab," Nico snorted. "The only time I was worried about you was when you were so sick you wouldn't eat even a bite of mine."

There was a brief debate about leaving to get kebabs, or fish and chips, or stuffed pita bread. It was chilly outside though, and they were drunk, and it was too much bother.

"We could order pizza," Leo suggested.

"There are some in the freezer," Riario put in. "It won't take much longer to cook them than to wait for a delivery." He got up and went to the kitchen, putting on the oven to warm while he took out three pizzas. One meat feast, one chicken with peppers, and one margarita with mushrooms for Leo's benefit, though Zo would likely polish off any leftovers regardless of toppings or lack thereof.

He finished his beer, watched the clock for a while, listening to the conversation in the lounge. Nico was telling a story about some incident that had happened on the campus involving a hot dog and the ornamental fountain.

Leo wandered in. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the pizzas to cook."

"You know what they say; a watched pizza never cooks." Leo laughed but Riario didn't even smile.

"That's kettles. They don't boil."

Leo frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Leo pulled a face at the obvious lie. Nico bounced into the room, one hand swatting at his hair, which kept falling into his face.

"Is the pizza done yet? Zo's starving. We all are."

"Soon," Riario said shortly.

"S'good idea," Nico said. "Keeping pizza in the freezer for when we can't afford or be bothered to order in. That wouldn't have happened before. We always had to get food delivered or bring it with if we wanted to be sure of eating."

Leo looked to the ceiling in despair. "It wasn't that bad!"

"We used to call you Old Mother Hubbard," Nico reminded him. "Because of the bare cupboards."

"Yes, well, Riario likes to be prepared. We could probably survive a week being snowed in," Leo said. "More if we kept Zo on strict rations."

Nico nodded and went to the fridge, grabbing another two beers. "You're on my team," he told Riario.

Riario blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"We're going to play Trivial Pursuit, and Zo claimed Vanessa. Leo has to play by himself because he thinks he's a genius." Nico waltzed swiftly past Leo.

"Cheeky git," Leo called to Nico's back.

The kitchen timer rang and Riario reached for the oven gloves while Leo rooted around in a drawer for the pizza cutter.

"Let me," Leo protested, refusing to relinquish the cutter when the hot pizzas were removed from the oven. "You don't cut them evenly."

"We're going to eat them, not frame them," Riario sniped. Despite himself he stifled a smile as he recalled Vanessa's words about what would happen if they let Leo serve the pub food. He watched Leo slice the pizzas with unnecessary precision. There was some satisfaction in knowing that Leo's friends did notice and appreciate his presence in their life, even if it did boil down to his keeping the freezer stocked and ganging up against Leo in party games.

Vanessa came to stand in the doorway, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger.

"The pizza is almost ready," Riario said.

She nodded. "I'm glad you came home Leo," she said. "But you didn't have to. Riario was doing a perfectly good job of hosting my pity party."

He suspected she was deliberately trying to make him feel better, but she looked completely devoid of ulterior motive.

"He can be a great host," Leo said, eyeing up the pizza.

"Yes. For one thing he lets us eat before the food gets cold." She gave him a look and Leo sighed, then laughed, and gave up, letting the pizza be served, irregularly cut or not.

"And you're playing by yourself since you think you're such a genius," Vanessa went on, grabbing some clean plates.

Leo scowled. "Nico already told me. It's different when you want to play Pictionary, then I'm everyone's favourite!"

She laughed and Riario smiled.

*

Hours later, Zo and Nico left together, planning to stop in at a nightclub Zo knew that remained open until dawn. Vanessa was dozing on the sofa. Riario was in the bedroom when Leo crept up behind him and wrapped his arms around him.

"I am a genius," Leo said. "But sometimes I'm really stupid."

"Hmm."

"I get now why you were upset. Honestly, you were doing a great job of hosting. I didn't come home because I thought you'd suck at it. I'm just used to doing things for myself, and especially when it comes to taking care of my friends. I never thought it was something you'd want to do."

It wasn't something he'd expected to do, let alone enjoy. "Do you think Vanessa and Julian will make up?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I hope so. I think they're good together."

"Are we good together?"

Leo squeezed him tighter which was meant to be comforting but brought to mind being hugged by a python. "You don't still doubt that, Gee?"

Part of him would always doubt it. He was cynical by nature, had suffered too much to always look on the bright side. That was one more reason he needed Leo's enthusiasm in his life. "Right now, no. But there are times you will have to believe for the both of us."

"I'm glad to." Leo relaxed his death grip and kissed him instead. "I'm going to sleep for an hour or so and then head back to Wales. I can still have breakfast with everyone and go golfing as planned."

Riario shook his head. "You don't like golf."

"But I like the scenery. And it's funny to watch my dad. He's okay at shooting but he sucks at golf." Leo nuzzled Riario's cheek. "We could take a shower before bed," he suggested, his tone making it clear that washing was the last thing on the agenda."

"Just get into bed," Riario groused. He tugged Leo's t-shirt off for him, which was some sort of cue for Leo to begin wrestling him to the floor and take over the chore of removing both their clothes.

*

Riario slept for a couple of hours, woken by a noise in the bathroom. He was alone, Leo having kept his word and gone back to the event, though not for long. When she'd finished throwing up Vanessa stumbled into the bedroom, half-asleep, and crawled into bed without a word.

Riario stared at the ceiling, wondering what the protocol was for such an occasion. When he heard gentle snoring he decided that sleep was the best course of action, and had a few hours of rest, waking before his companion did.

Around seven, Vanessa stirred. Her eyes widened. "Crap. Sorry. I thought you were Leo."

"I've been told we're similar but there are limits," he said wryly, teasing her.

"I was pretty drunk. I just had to come upstairs to use the bathroom and got muddled." He recalled her saying that she used to sleep, fully clothed or otherwise, on Leo's bed after parties. He was more concerned with her half-truth.

"You had to vomit," Riario said condescendingly. "I warned you about the ice cream."

She rolled her eyes, tugging at her t-shirt with a look of relief that she'd remained fully dressed. "Arrogance is so very Leo."

Riario stifled a yawn, thinking about coffee, and frying up bacon while Leo wasn't there to complain about the smell. "It's not arrogance when you're right," he said, directly quoting Leo.

That drew a laugh, though she put one hand to her head. "I need painkillers."

"There are plenty in the bathroom. I'll cook bacon for breakfast if you think you can eat."

She pouted. "Leo makes pancakes."

"Do not push your luck."

She laughed before she came serious. "Can I ask you something?" Without waiting for a response she asked, "What's it like, being with Leo?"

He frowned. "I'm not sure how to answer that."

She took it for an invitation to go first. "When I met him I was a virgin - not that it means much, these days, but he was my first. He wanted to show me the world. That became his desire; he wanted me to feel passion. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't rough. I'm glad he was my first because he wanted me to be happy and he taught me about myself and my body. I will always be thankful for that."

This was a more intimate version of the "only once" story she'd shared so many months ago with him, but then this was a more intimate setting and their relationship had grown since then. She gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to reciprocate.

Riario let out a deep sigh. "He was my first, in a way. The first man...the only _man_ I've ever slept with. I still wonder at it, sometimes, how and why I let it happen. He's rougher with me, I suppose, but I demand that. I fight him. We've always fought. It's part of us. But there are gentle moments, afterwards. When he's exhausted and content and he looks at me..."

"...like you're the only person in the world."

"Yes." He was no longer jealous of her. Their love for Leo was not a competition. Vanessa had made it clear there was nothing sexual left in her deep affection for Leo. In fact it was almost a comfort, to have someone who understood Leo so deeply, who knew the extent of his passions and the hurt he could casually inflict when he neglected his loved ones.

No, there was no jealousy here. Lucy, on the other hand; it didn't matter how much she, or Leo, or Leo's friends said that relationship too was over, nor that it had lacked the genuine affection Vanessa had with Leo. Of Lucy, Riario would always harbour some suspicion and jealousy. He would just have to work at rebuilding his relationship with his cousin, at trusting her as he'd promised Leo.

"Riario?"

He'd been silent too long and she sounded concerned. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Go and get some painkillers," he said. "I'll start making breakfast."

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"The man who robbed the pub. The one who fell off the kerb. I know exactly how he fell, and why." She leaned over and kissed his forehead before dragging herself out of bed and staggering towards the bathroom.

It was times like these Riario felt he'd fallen through the looking glass into a world that was utterly unlike the one he knew and understood. The difference between _before_ and _now_ was that he preferred Leo's topsy-turvy world and the delightful craziness of it all.


	8. Chapter 8

Riario was good at doing the shopping, Leo had to admit. He always bought what was on the list. If something was out of stock he picked up the closest replacement items, sometimes calling Leo to check that the substitute was acceptable. He picked up occasional bargains, but only things that were guaranteed to be used or eaten.

Leo was, according to Riario, "terrible" at shopping. He didn't care because he enjoyed going to the supermarket, fascinated by new foods or new package designs, or sometimes letting his mind wander while he loaded the trolley with vegetables and pasta shapes. The problem was he tended to buy random items that caught his eye, and frequently forgot to buy many of the items on the lists. Once he'd picked up cat biscuits because they were on offer - and they didn't even have a cat. (Zo took the food to an animal shelter he knew off, where he was trying to impress one of the shelter workers, so everything worked out for the best, not that Riario would admit it.)

Today Riario was working an extended shift at the pub, so it was Leo's turn to go shopping and Riario would just have to put with it! With a broad smile on his face, Leo pushed the trolley down the next aisle, winking at a young boy sitting in the seat of the trolley which a woman, presumably his mother, was loading up. He grabbed some milk, and swept round the corner into the home baking aisle. Leo picked up a bag of flour on the grounds that it was better to have flour than not, and, at a push, could justify the purchase by making salt dough. Almost anything could be used for craft with a bit of imagination, though Riario would sometimes be Not Impressed by Leo's insistence on this.

The next aisle was stationery and craft supplies and he ignored the paint brushes as being of low quality, but did pick up another sketchbook, because you could never have enough paper in the house. He also spotted something he'd not seen in the store before. A limited time, special price offer.

"Body paints," he mused aloud, picking up the large box, and a world of possibilities filled his head, from using a human model as his canvas to recreate a famous work of art, to an anatomy demonstration by sketching the positions of the internal organs onto a willing volunteer. Without another thought he tossed the paints into the trolley and headed off to the biscuit aisle. When he got home he threw the paints and the book into his bedside drawer and promptly forgot about them, especially after he got an interesting email.

The next day he spoke with a representative of the person who'd emailed him, and who, as per the email, again swore him to secrecy. Two days after that, they had a face to face meeting at an exclusive restaurant and hammered out terms. Enthusiasm warred with worry over what Riario would say as Leo headed home.

*

Riario was chopping peppers as he prepared the evening meal. Leo hovered in the doorway.

"We need to talk," he said and Riario's fingers tightened on the knife handle until his knuckles were bloodless. No matter what, he swore, he would not shout nor weep. Everyone had told him that Leo loved him, that he would never leave Riario, that they were good together. Over and over until he had believed them. It was his own fault that he'd let himself fall deeply in love and if it was over now, he should have expected nothing less. He had no idea how he would survive another breakup, but he would. Maybe Vanessa and Nico would throw him a pity party. The only question was why, when things were going so well, was Leo going to break up with him now?

"There's this job," Leo said, unaware of Riario's tension. "I can't tell you the details still, but I went to a meeting about it today and, honestly, it's a great opportunity."

Riario glanced over his shoulder. This was absolutely not the conversation he'd been expecting. Not unless the work was an excuse to dump him.

"It's a long way - I mean, not that far, it's still on the mainland, well, kind of," Leo said, beginning to ramble. "But the man hiring me is really secretive and obsessive, and I know something about what that's like, and we've communicated electronically and through a third party, someone he trusts, though I haven't met him yet but I'm going to, if I accept the project, which obviously I want to."

Riario forced himself to lay down the blade and turn to face Leo. "What do we need to talk about?" he asked, his voice a little more raspy and unsteady than he would have liked.

Leo gave him the slightly puzzled look that he often gave when someone wasn't following his obvious-only-to-him train of thought. It was nicer than his frustrated look, though, so Riario bore it without comment and waited for Leo to reboot his brain and try explaining again in words that non-geniuses could understand.

"I have to go and supervise the project personally," Leo said slowly. Riario nodded, fighting frustration of his own. He wasn't stupid, he just wasn't a mind reader. "It's...well, I'm not supposed to say, but it's a sort of living artwork, mechanical really, clockwork precisely, and I've got an idea for a sort of labyrinth -"

" _Leo_!" Riario was beginning to understand that this wasn’t what he'd feared, but his relief was marred by anger at Leo's haphazard explanation.

"Right, right." Leo cleared his throat and got back to the business at hand. "It's really exciting. Challenging, and a unique opportunity. I want to do it. But I have to be on site throughout the design and construction process. I'll have to live there, on the private estate."

Wonderful. Leo had found himself a man almost as mad as himself, but with money enough to hire other madman to construct bizarre artworks. Riario sighed. "For how long?"

"A month. Maybe two. Three, tops. I think."

Riario turned back to the food preparation and picked up the knife again. "Let's say fifteen weeks, then." He'd added another couple given Leo's tendency to underestimate how long a project would take.

"Yes." Leo shifted from one foot to the other. "And it's not so far I couldn't come home for weekends, but the - er, the client, he wants it to be completed as soon as possible. And there's issues of secrecy. He wants me to stay there until the project is complete."

When Riario didn't answer, Leo added, "I mean, if it was an emergency I could come home. I asked that, of course. It's not like I'd be a prisoner."

He would be, Riario knew, locked in a cage of his own making, more obsessed with whatever bizarre project this was than even the mysterious employer who had first dreamt of it. There was no question of forbidding Leo from going, and asking him to give up this opportunity would damage the relationship they'd both worked so hard to build up. Which was problematic, since Riario didn't want him to go.

"I asked if you could come with me, but that wouldn't fly, and it's only partly because of your father, mostly it's because of the secrecy. And you've got the pub to help run anyway. But I insisted that I be allowed to call you," Leo said, with enthusiasm. "Phone, text, email is fine. So long as I don't talk about the details of the project. So we can talk every night. I promise. And, and, we'll come up with some codewords."

"Codewords?"

Leo gave him another am-I-speaking-Greek look. "Yes. You know, so if it does turn out the - er, my employer - is some sort of Caligula I can let you know and you can come and rescue me."

Riario dropped the knife, laughing despite himself, and wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "Rescue you?"

"I'm sure I'd have a plan of my own, but you could be my back up," Leo said, cocky now that Riario had relaxed a little.

Riario crossed the kitchen and stroked Leo's cheek. "I can see how important this is to you."

Leo nodded. "But if you don't want me to go -"

Riario sighed. "I don't," he said, choosing to be honest. "But I can't stand in your way. You should take the job."

"I'm worried. I don't want to leave you." Leo grabbed for Riario's hand. "I'll work as fast I can, I'll come back the moment I can. I'm frightened that if I leave you...we've not been apart much, and I just thought that if I go...fuck, I can't lose you." His gaze fell on Riario's wrist.

Riario, stunned, shook his head. "I'll be fine," he said. Leo did have a habit of letting his imagination not just run away with him but drag him into some dark corners. However, smarting a little from the momentary terror he himself had experienced a few moments ago, and to reassure himself besides, he added, "So long as you're not leaving me for good."

"No! No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

Riario swallowed. "Conversations that begin 'we need to talk' usually turn out to mean 'by the way, we're through'."

Day dawned and Leo's mouth fell open. "Sorry. I should have started with something else."

If only. Riario squeezed at Leo's hand, put his free hand on Leo's hip. "And you, my darling artist, do you honestly think I cannot survive a week or two without you?"

"My ego would like to think you can't," Leo said with bravado, adding more softly, "but I couldn't bear it if that were true."

"Sssh," Riario soothed. "I have every faith in you and that you will return as soon as you can. Have faith enough in me that I will be here waiting for you."

Leo buried his face in Riario's shoulder. Both his hands being occupied, Riario could not stroke Leo's hair, so he settled for brushing his lips against Leo's scalp, and murmuring ridiculous endearments until Leo pulled away.

"It's been a year, tomorrow," Leo said, and that was a reason he might be particularly worried, the shadow of that night falling across their life together, threatening further darkness ahead if he didn't prevent it.

It wasn't an anniversary Riario had any interest in marking. The first time they'd made love, the day he'd moved in; anything but the day he'd slit his wrist, no matter how big a part it had inadvertently played in bringing him back home. "Three more days and we can celebrate my moving back in," he offered.

Leo nodded fervently. "I love you."

Riario leaned in and kissed him, hard, before trying to lighten the mood. "I love you too. Now, let me finish making dinner, and you can tell me any other details you have not been sworn to secrecy about. For instance, when do you leave?"

"The client is on a business trip in Kent the day after next," Leo said. "I'm to meet him and, if we're both agreeable, sign the rest of the paperwork. I already signed a minor nondisclosure agreement to get this far, but I have to sign a full contract. Then I'm to start at the end of the month."

Less than two weeks. Riario forced a smile. He would make the days count, as would Leo. There would be likely some sort of going away party or at least a night of beer and nachos once the others heard about this. They'd need to make preparations - sort out Leo's luggage, update his website to reflect his unavailability, and a myriad other things. And the codewords. Riario might have scoffed at the notion but secretly he was reassured by the idea and fully intended to hold Leo to it.

*

The night before Leo left he seemed to want to memorize every inch of Riario's body, studying, stroking, nipping, licking, and kissing. It was ecstasy even while it was driving him crazy to let Leo have his fun without reciprocating.

"I have an idea," Leo said. To Riario's disappointment he moved away, opening the bedside drawer. Well, there were a couple of toys that he wouldn't mind Leo bringing out right now. He was surprised when Leo pulled out a box of body paints.

"I've painted you," Leo said, laying out the different colours on the white sheet next to Riario's naked torso. "But I've never painted upon you."

Riario sighed, knowing there was little point protesting. "What delights do I, as your canvas, have to look forward to?"

Leo considered for a long moment. He traced curves and lines over Riario's chest, making him shiver with anticipation. Then a smile spread over Leo's features. He moved Riario's arm and hand, palm up now, bent slightly at the elbow, and took up a tube of paint.

Leo's eyes narrowed in concentration as he began to work. Riario watched as leaves and vines began to cover his skin, hiding the scar from view. Thorns studded sturdy branches while red roses budded and bloomed making his skin a riot of colour and vitality in opposition to his pale, damaged, flesh.

"What do you think?" Leo asked, when he'd finished, or at least had found temporary satisfaction with his work.

"It's lovely."

Leo kissed him, hard. "That's how I see you. Beautiful. Vibrant."

Riario scoffed but Leo just kissed him again. And again.

Somehow, they didn't crush the paint tubes in their ensuing passion, and the artwork was miraculously un-smudged when Riario awoke the next morning.

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching Leo sleep for a moment. Leo needed little sleep and not only was Riario was usually asleep before him, Leo was usually awake before him even if he didn't dream.

Vivid dreams and terrible nightmares frequently haunted Leo's sleep. They were worse after one of his prolonged periods of feverish work when he pushed himself beyond the limit of human endurance. It was a cruel irony that when Leo eventually slept the nightmares would taunt him, robbing him of the rest he so sorely needed. Night terrors, that was the proper term, wasn't it? 

As such, Riario was always relived to see Leo sleep soundly. Leo had told him he slept better – presumably longer - with Riario at his side, which if it were true, God only knew how much rest Leo usually got.

"I don't dream all the time", Leo had explained once, adding, I don’t always have nightmares. I have good dreams too. They're so very real, all of them though." So much so that Leo couldn't always tell truth from fiction on waking, which made his nightmares particularly terrible.

With a stab of guilt Riario felt certain that his suicide attempt had given Leo more nightmare fuel. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd only once roused Leo from a nightmare since moving back in, and that he was now doing more good than harm.

Leo stirred. "What time is it?" he mumbled, apparently sensing Riario was already awake. If he didn't know better, Riario would have thought Leo was a supernatural creature. Possibly he was part dolphin; that nature documentary Leo had made them watch last week said dolphins never truly slept, each side of their brain taking turns to rest.

"A little after six," Riario replied. Leo blinked, staring up at the ceiling.

"I didn't mean to sleep in." It was hardly sleeping in, but they were both aware that this was their last morning together for some weeks.

Riario trailed his fingers over Leo's cheek. Leo caught hold of his hand. "Girolamo."

"Yes?"

"I dreamt I came home and the house was empty. Everything gone or boxed up. I know it's just my imagination but I can't help worrying." It hadn't been a terrible enough nightmare that he'd woken himself, nor woken Riario by thrashing around, but it was clear from his subdued tone that it had affected him. "I keep wondering if you'll be here when I get back."

"I will."

Leo gazed at him intently. "I don't think I should go."

Riario gave him a stern look. "No. You have to. We've talked about this."

Leo made a noise of frustration. "Then promise me. Promise me you won't move out while I'm gone. That you won't leave me. That you," and he hesitated only a moment, "that you won't hurt yourself."

Riario tried to smother his sigh of frustration at going over ground he was sure they'd covered twice already. "I promise."

"Swear to God."

"You don't believe in God," Riario scoffed.

Leo flicked his eyes guiltily upwards. "I prayed that night. Begged Him not to take you from me. To let you live."

"Leo." Riario shifted his weight, covering Leo's body with his own, holding him tightly.

"No. I don't need you to feel guilty about it, or comfort me for it. I need you to swear. You still believe, even if you rarely go to church now."

What he did or did not believe was of no concern. If it would reassure Leo then Riario would conduct Mass in their bedroom.

"I promise I will be here you get back, I swear to God." Then, to break the sombre mood, Riario grinned and, in a blasphemous mood, added, " _In nomine Patris_ ," and kissed Leo's lips, " _et Filii_ ," another kiss, " _et Spiritus Sancti_ ," and a third kiss.

"Amen," Leo breathed.

*

At the train station, Nico and then Zo hugged Leo goodbye. Nico had skipped a class to see him off but Vanessa hadn't been able to get anyone else to open the pub.

Leo caressed Riario's cheek. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll call you, every night. I promise."

A gentle, almost chaste, kiss on the lips and then Leo boarded the train.

"The weeks will fly by," Nico said reassuringly, squeezing Riario's shoulder. He headed off for his next class.

Zo had one foolproof method for dealing with awkward and/or upsetting situations and he deployed it now. "Come on," he said to Riario. "It's almost lunchtime. I'll buy you a beer."

It said something about Riario's state of mind, or possibly the new level their relationship had reached, that Riario didn't mention Zo's long overdue bar bill.

Riario chose wine, while Zo ordered beer and nachos – Vanessa had provided a plate of bacon sandwiches instead. Zo suspected she'd attempt to feed Riario up at every opportunity as part of "keeping an eye on him" and determined to use this to his own advantage wherever possible. Riario didn't seem inclined to eat, while Zo polished off two sandwiches straight away. They sat in what was almost companionable silence for a few minutes before Riario broached the subject.

Zo almost choked on his beer. "Say that again."

Seated across from him at the group's favourite table, Riario gazed heavenward, and repeated with reluctance. "I would like your advice."

Zo took another swallow of beer. "Me? Since when you do ask me for advice about anything?"

"It would seem there is a first time for anything."

Zo leaned back in his chair. "Go on, ask me then. Make me laugh."

Riario asked about the subject in question. Zo didn't laugh.

"Have you asked Leo about this?" he said.

"For permission?" Riario frowned. "It is my body, is it not?"

Zo opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a breathless fish. "Um. Okay. Well, let me think a minute." It was a subject he knew something about, and he did, as Riario suspected, know people in the profession in question.

When Vanessa came over a few minutes later to top up Riario's wine, Zo tugged at her skirt and told her what Riario was planning. Her mouth fell open. "That is adorable."

Zo, upset she wasn't taking his side and believing that this probably came under the heading of "don't let Riario do anything stupid while I'm away", pushed his empty glass at her. "Refill."

"Service is for food, not drink. Go to the bar," she said.

"You poured for him!" Zo waved an indignant hand at the smug Riario.

She shrugged. "He's my business partner. Buy some shares or get off your lazy butt."

Zo sighed the long suffering sigh of the much put upon sidekick and took himself and his glass off to the bar.

*

Leo meant to keep his promise, he honestly did, and for fifteen nights he did so, calling Riario as promised. Then he spent all night working, enraptured by a sudden moment of inspiration.

Five am rolled around before he knew it, dawn becoming visible through the incredible windows that made this room perfect for an artist. His gaze fell upon the antique gilt-brass clock with its astronomical and calendrical dials, which seemed to taunt him with the terrible truth.

He couldn't breathe, horror struck, like Cinderella discovering it was midnight, her disguise about to unravel. No, like Beauty who'd left her Beast behind to die without her. Like every stupid character in every stupid fairy tale who couldn't keep a single promise and almost destroyed their life and the happiness of everyone around them.

In a panic, he sought his phone. It took seven minutes to find it buried beneath a stack of papers. He paced the large room, the fingers of his free hand twitching nervously. The call went to voicemail. Shit.

He was halfway to the door, grabbing for his coat, not really knowing where he was going. He was thinking about calling Nico when the phone rang.

"Leonardo?"

He sank to the floor in relief at hearing Riario's voice. "You didn't pick up."

"It's ten past five. I was asleep!" The irritation in his voice subsided as he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yes! Are you?"

Riario sighed. Leo imagined him rolling onto his back to stare at their bedroom ceiling. "Aside from being rudely awakened at this ungodly hour, I'm fine."

"I forgot to call. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you. I'll –"

"Sssh, my darling artist. I knew you'd forget, sooner or later." There was not a trace of anger in Riario's voice. "Your work consumes you. I understand."

Leo shook his head, tried to express his emotions with mere words rather than his face and with drawings – he would draw something later, yes, a sketch that embodied his regret and guilt, and…he wasn't paying attention. He threw back his head against the doorframe, a little harder than he'd intended, but the pain helped him focus as he'd planned.

"I don't mean to neglect you."

There was the rustle of sheets. "Your friends have given me barely a minute to myself since you left. Neglect is the least of my worries."

His mouth quirked with pride and joy. He'd nagged them frequently about the need to keep an eye on Riario. "You'll watch him?" he'd begged, over and over. Zo had reluctantly said he'd suppose he'd make sure Riario didn't get into mischief. Nico had promised to keep a close eye on him if Leo stopped asking. Even Vanessa had become irritated with Leo's fussing. Nonetheless they'd apparently taken his pleas to heart. He need not have fretted about leaving his beloved under their watchful eyes.

"You mean our friends."

"It's too early to argue semantics."

Leo nodded, even though Riario couldn't see the gesture. He still felt guilty. "I'm glad they're looking out for you. It's not the same though, I know. I promised and I forgot and I'm sorry. I'll do better."

Riario seemed to be moving around the house, heading down the stairs. There was the sound of running water. "If you forget again there will be no consequences," Riario said at last. "I expect you to forget all but your work from time to time."

That was a relief, though Riario added sternly, "But if you wake me before six again, you shall be sleeping on the floor when you get home."

Leo laughed. "I deserve that."

"You missed some good news, by the way."

"Oh?"

The kettle began to boil in the background. "Julian and Vanessa are making another go of things. Apparently their argument was some sort of terrible misunderstanding – he's blaming his brother, mostly, but from the rumours I've heard I'm fairly certain Lucy was involved. Vanessa won't tell me the details. She says she just wants to move forward. I think she's worried I'll argue with Lucrezia again, and you are so soon keen for me to build bridges with her."

Leo digested this. "I'm glad they're together," he said at last. "What are you going to do about Lucy?"

There was the sound of a drawer being opened and shut. "Nothing, yet. I'll wait and see if she comes to me. She must know I'll have discovered she played a part in this fiasco. If she does, we can talk about it. If not, I fear we are back to square one."

Leo stifled a yawn. He ought to get some sleep himself. "That sounds like a good plan. Again, sorry I woke you. I'll hang up now. I love you."

A momentary hesitation before the expected response. "I love you too." It was always harder for Riario to be open over the phone, for reasons Leo never quite grasped. Even more difficult in public, though he was starting to be used to holding hands, sometimes hugging, even giving a kiss on the cheek, in places that he deemed safe.

Leo ended the call, slipping the phone into his pocket. He folded his coat into a makeshift pillow. Sleeping on the floor was no hardship as he curled up under a wide table. He soon fell into a much needed slumber and dreamt of sitting in the garden back home, Riario lying in his lap and Leo stroking his hair, while the sound of birds, along with their friends laughing and teasing each other, filled the sunlit air.

*

The work progressed at a pace in line with Riario's predications. There was a minor issue with the clockwork (easily fixed) and a rather dangerous and expensive accident with the fireworks (which at least looked spectacular), but at last the project was complete.

The client was satisfied, and paid Leo a small bonus on top of the generous fee they'd agreed upon, and sent him on his way.

Leo got an earlier train than the one he'd texted the details of to Riario. Of course then train then got delayed, further delayed, and was finally cancelled, and Leo ended up on a replacement coach service. He called home and told Riario not to pick him up, that he'd get a taxi from the train station or coach stop or wherever the hell he eventually ended up.

He didn't mind the travel so much. He could read, listen to music, sketch, close his eyes and let his imagination run free. The delays only bothered him because he wanted to be home already, to be with Riario again, and to see his friends.

He arrived back home, juggling his keys and his bags, kicking open the door with a cheery, "I'm home!"

Riario was pacing the lounge when Leo entered, dropping his luggage to the floor. Riario's check shirt was open over a tight black t-shirt and flattering black trousers, his tousled hair completing the messy chic ensemble and Leo wanted more than anything to pull him into a hug. Instead he hesitated, sensing something was wrong. Or at least _different_. He stared at Riario, who looked agitated.

"What's wrong?" Leo asked, his throat closing around the words so he could barely get them out.

Riario moistened his lips, shook back a lock of hair from his eyes. "There's something you need to see," he said, voice barely above a whisper. He began to tug back his sleeve.

Leo fought rage and grief and guilt, reliving that terrible night he'd almost lost this man, his beloved, and now he'd almost lost him again; it was his fault for leaving him, it was Nico's fault for not keeping an eye on him, Zo's fault somehow, almost certainly, it was Riario's fault because fuck, why would he do this, why, why –

" _Leo_." The single word was sharp, acting like a slap in the face or a dash of cold water. Leonardo blinked, coming back to himself and to the present moment. Riario stepped forward. "It's not what you think, my darling artist."

Leo left out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. His artwork, the roses, the thorns, the expression of love he'd drawn, was still visible upon Riario's skin. Permanently, he realised, skimming fingertips oh so gently over a crimson rose petal.

"You got a tattoo." Leonardo stared at the ink, holding Riario's hand and twisting his arm gently to inspect the design. It was good work, he had to admit. The shading was impeccable, perfectly copying his artwork. It wasn't anything he'd imagined Riario ever having done. At last he lifted his eyes to meet Riario's gaze. A smile played at his beloved's lips.

"I insisted it be exactly as you had drawn it," he said. "It took a few sessions but I think it's perfect. Do you approve?"

Leo shook his head. Not a no, just him trying to work this new fact into his mind. "Did it hurt?" His tone was hushed, reverent.

A shrug. "A little. It was worth it."

Leo lifted his other hand to cup Riario's chin. "You would mark yourself permanently with something of my design?"

"Better than the permanent mark I already inflicted," came the reply. Riario dipped his chin, trying to nip at Leo's wrist.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." Leo pulled him close, delighting in the feel of Riario of in his arms, of his scent, of his breath against Leo's ear.

There were kisses and endearments, and promises made that would be kept, and some that would not be, and nothing else mattered except that they were together again.

Leo wanted to take a shower and Riario pointed out that they'd only get hot and sweaty again when they moved onto the next item on Leo's obvious itinerary. So Riario joined him in the shower, and Leo made a joke about saving water, though by the time they were both clean and exhausted and happy, they'd showered long enough for half a dozen people.

There was a celebratory dinner at the pub that evening, and Leo told them all the details he was allowed to share, which weren't many, and demanded to hear all their news, as if he'd been out of contact completely. It was good to be home.

*

Lying in bed that night, Leo held Riario's hand. He looked down, admiring the tattoo. With sudden inspiration, he let go of Riario and leaned over to his bedside cabinet, rummaging through drawers, and tossing articles of clothing onto the floor, which had been immaculate in his absence.

"What are you doing?"

Leo didn't answer. His fingers searched through the drawer contents until they touched a box. He pulled out the paints with a flourish. He made Riario shift position slightly, which elicited much grumbling, before settling himself down to work. He placed his right arm next to Riario's left, and began to work. It was lucky he was ambidextrous.

Riario stopped complaining and watched the vines spread from his skin onto Leo's. Roses bloomed in a mirror image of the ones on Riario's skin, the foliage linking them together. It was a single image on two separate canvases, recognition of a bond that was more than skin deep.

When Leo had finished he said, "I hope it doesn't hurt too much to get inked."

Riario kissed his hair. "It's not necessary for you do that."

"It is. I want to. I've been thinking…but this is better."

"Better than what, my darling artist? I cannot always read your mind," Riario reminded him.

Leo swallowed. "Better than a ring. Jewellery, store bought, devoid of any real emotion, easily tossed aside. But this, that you would do this. I want to make it permanent too."

"The artwork?"

Leo nodded, then shook his head. "Us."

"What are you asking?" Riario asked softly.

Leo took a deep breath. "For you to marry me."

Riario was quiet for a long time. Leo, hiding his disappointment, busied himself putting away the paints.

"Leo. I don't need to marry you," Riario said. "I love you and it won't make me care for you any more than I already do."

"I know. But all the paperwork we've talked about, taking out a lasting power of attorney; this would be simpler and more, more legal, somehow, I think. Harder for your family to discredit me and your wishes." Leo gazed at the floor.

"So it's for legal purposes?"

Leo swiped a long strand of hair back behind his own ear. "Not just that. People say things about bisexuals, how we're slutty and can't settle down. I want to prove them wrong."

"You always say it doesn't matter what people think." Riario took Leonardo's hand.

Leo shrugged half-heartedly. "There goes my next argument, that it would piss your father off."

Riario laughed, imagining the fit of apoplexy a wedding would induce in his father. "Oh, it would. But I no longer feel the need to challenge him or try to prove myself to him. I'm happy, Leonardo. I like how things are. There's nothing I want to change."

Leo tipped his head, grasping at this reason Riario was refusing him. "I'm not asking for anything to change. Not our living arrangements or our names. I won't start on about us adopting or anything – except maybe a pet or two, but that's a discussion for another time," Leo said, for once catching himself mid-ramble. "I just want to make us official. It would make me feel safer."

Riario frowned. "Safer?"

"If you married me, then you'd be saying you won't leave me again." Leo rolled his eyes, adding, before Riario could broach the topic of divorce, "Not without a fight, anyway."

"We do fight so well." Riario exhaled sharply. Leo had asked little of him. If this gave him peace of mind, he could go along with it. He surrendered. "On one knee, then. Ask me properly."

Leo's eyes lit up. He scrambled off the bed, taking a knee. Riario perched on the edge of the bed and let Leo take his hand once more.

"Girolamo Riario, will you marry me?"

Riario nodded. "Yes, Leonardo, my darling artist. I will."

*

"A very _quiet_ civil ceremony," Riario said again.

"Followed by a party here," Zo said, again, and Vanessa nodded enthusiastically, already planning how to decorate the pub for the post-ceremony reception. She was sitting on Leo's lap, having kissed first Riario and then Leo to congratulate them. Nico had one arm draped over Riario's shoulder.

"Please can I be a bridesmaid? Pleeease," Vanessa begged. "I have this dress – do you remember, you sketched it on a beer coaster and Nico's friend made it for one of his textile assignments – and I never get to wear it."

Leo frowned. "The one with the…without the, um…" His fingers gestured around his shoulders and chest. Vanessa waved his protests aside with one hand.

"He added modesty panels, I'll look very proper," she said.

"You do know there's no bride," Riario said.

"Pleeease. Matron of honour, if you prefer. Oh, or best man! I mean woman." Vanessa beamed. "You need two witnesses anyway."

"Oi, don't I get to be best man?" Zo asked.

"Don't mind me, I'm chopped liver," Nico snarked.

Leo looked to Riario who mouthed, "Elopement." Leo grinned.

After another round of champagne everyone was feeling more mellow. "I think Zo should be your best man," Riario said. "And Nico can be mine."

Leo nodded, pleased, adding before she could protest, "Yes, and Vanessa can be matron of honour."

"Someone needs to make sure the best men behave themselves," Riario agreed. There was the question of whether Julian would come, assuming he and Vanessa were still together by then; and regardless of Julian's presence or absence, how Vanessa would feel if Riario invited Lucy, the only member of his blood family he'd even consider involving in the celebration. 

While she'd confessed her part in sabotaging Julian's relationship with Vanessa, Lucy had insisted it was Julian's brother she'd been targeting, on the orders of Riario's father. Riario knew he would have to do something about the situation eventually, for Vanessa's sake, for Lucrezia's even, and for his own twisted sense of vengeance, but it would require planning and preparation. This issue could not be settled by his father "falling off a kerb".

He pushed the worries aside. They were problems for later, and ones he wouldn't have to face alone. This was a time for celebration.

Vanessa kissed Leo again, and then changed position so she was sitting on Riario's lap. "Are you going to get rings?"

Leo nodded. He'd come up with several potential designs, so they wouldn't be the soulless commercial bands he'd decried. Still, the ink they'd soon share was a deeper bond, and he would never regret one drop of it.

"The Sun," Vanessa said softly.

"Hmm?" Leo, sketching their ring designs on a serviette and barely paying attention to the task, glanced over at her.

"Something we were talking about before." She was addressing Riario but Leo was listening, intrigued. "The Tower. The Star. The Moon, and then The Sun." She ticked the Tarot cards off on her fingers. "The Sun is associated with achievements, success, knowledge, joy, marriage."

Riario tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What comes next?"

"Judgement."

"That sounds fun," Zo deadpanned, pouring more champagne.

"It's not a bad card. New beginnings, hope, redemption. Followed by The World. Fulfilment. Completion." Vanessa reached for her glass.

"And that sounds like an ending," Nico said.

Vanessa shook her head, spilling a few drops of champagne onto Riario's sleeve – to his credit, he didn't complain. "It's not an end. It's all cyclical. You start over. There's always things to do, and love, and learn."

"God, she's philosophical when she's drunk," Zo said. Vanessa climbed down from Riario's lap and smacked the back of Zo's head with his own leather jacket, swiped from the back of his chair. Nico shook his head, laughing.

Leo pushed the finished sketch over to Nico to admire. He leaned over to Riario to murmur in his ear. "I know what comes next."

"You do?" Riario met his gaze, an indulgent smile on his face. Leo nodded.

"Whatever we want." Leo kissed him and Riario returned the kiss with passion he had never thought he possessed at all.

Their relationship had always been tumultuous, but they'd weathered every storm.

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful accompanying artwork is by stormbrite; the complete set of full size art, including pieces not featured in the text, is available [here](http://stormbrite.livejournal.com/3021.html). I want to thank stormbrite not only for the art but her support and encouragement on reading the first draft, and for quickly becoming a fan of the show - welcome to the DvD family, it's a small but lovely one ;)
> 
> Edit: I've got a [Tumblr post](http://meridianrose.tumblr.com/post/115775798576/dvd-weather-every-storm) which you can reblog if you care to promote the fic. Thanks :D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for 'Weather every Storm'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648906) by [stormbrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbrite/pseuds/stormbrite)




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